


Outback Tales

by Salazar101



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal, Belly-bulging, Drugs, Fisting, Hayseed Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Junkenstein, Junkenstein's Monster - Freeform, M/M, Rough Sex, Scent Kink, Sharkbait Mako, Smoking, Trans Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 04:28:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 19,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7998619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salazar101/pseuds/Salazar101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Roadrat drabbles, updated as I write them.  Anything from gen to hardcore porn</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Money or Sex

**Author's Note:**

> Yo I write porn and other stuff, find me on tumblr burning in roadrat hell at ohgodsalazarwhy

All the breath was knocked clean from Junkrat’s lungs as Roadhog’s palm slapped across his face, so huge it spanned his head.  His knee buckled as shrill laughter bubbled up between his lips, “Oy, you gotta problem, Hoggy? Gotta little-”

“Shut up.” Roadhog’s raspy growl seemed to vibrate right through him, but that might have just been his own natural, and seemingly perpetual, shaking.

“Eeehehehe,” Junkrat wiped a trail of blood and drool from his chin, grinning wide enough to have his gold tooth glinting in the unforgiving Outback sun.  “Oi barely felt that, mate! You gonna-OOF!” Another hard slap, this one sent him crashing back against Roadhog’s bike, the metal burning in the sun and sticking to Junkrat’s flesh.  He let out a bark of laughter, squirming as Roadhog kicked his legs wide and pinned him down with a grunt.

“Make no mistake,” Roadhog growled, fat fingers working open his overalls to pull out his massive cock, thick and swollen, “you’re only alive for one reason.”

“Pra’bly ‘cause you’re a fat pervert, eh Hog?” Junkrat tittered then choked as a hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed.  “Kidding!” he wheezed, thrashing and kicking out but unable to even budge Hog’s solid mass.  The pressure let up and Junkrat rubbed his throat with a grin, “and here I thought ya had a sense of humor!”

“Maybe you’re just not funny,” said Roadhog, fisting himself lazily as the glass eyes in his mask flashed emotionlessly.  “Maybe I should find a better use for that mouth.”

“Maybe ya should,” Junkrat agreed, narrowing his eyes greedily.

Be it money or sex, a Junker only ever looked out for himself.


	2. Fisting

Junkrat yelped as he was slapped on the side, “Oi’m movin’ ya drongo!” He slid off Roadhog’s belly with a disgruntled snort that morphed into a titter. “Who’s eager now, eh?”

“Shut up, Jamison,” Hoggy growled, snorting behind his mask. They were both naked as jaybirds and Junkrat’s thighs were still sore from riding Hog’s massive cock. It didn’t help he only had the one leg to support himself with. Roadhog always made him take off the prosthetics before they fooled around. He claimed they pinched.

Junkrat grunted as his arm was grabbed, the one missing below the elbow, and tugged until he was holding it out straight. “Oi bet no one knows wot a perv ya are, pig-face!” Junkrat snickered, “but I know! Like somethin’ big up there ya dirty slut-HRK!” A massive hand wrapped around his throat and gave a warning squeeze.

“Message received!” Junkrat gurgled before he was let go.

He rubbed his throat with his hand, grinning widely as lube was rubbed over his arm, dripping down the crook of his elbow and along his bicep.  With a low snuff Roadhog kneeled over Junkrat’s face, his heavy cock and balls resting right against his mouth.  “Suck, Jamison, make that mouth good for something.”

While his other arm was positioned, Junkrat opened his mouth wide and let his tongue rasp over Hoggy’s balls, spit dripping down his chin as he lapped messily.  Above him Roadhog groaned and Junkrat felt that big hand tighten around his arm as he guided the stump into his asshole.  Ol’ Hoggy liked it big and thick, and he’d sneered when Junkrat had offered to fuck him the first time.

“With that tiny thing?”

Junkrat had been spittin’ mad for all of two seconds, “Sorry it won’t fit in your massive CUNT, ya poofter!” Before he was slammed into a wall.

They’d figured it out.  Or rather, Junkrat had been babbling while getting fucked and must have said something to peak the big guy’s interest because before he knew it Roadhog was ordering him to slip that arm right into him.  He hadn’t enjoyed the feeling at first, that tight, slick heat around his arm which sometimes still felt complete.  His imaginary fingers had made a fist while he’d fucked Roadhog open with the stump at it made him dizzy.

Now though?  Now he kinda liked it, liked knowing he could give Roadie something he damn well couldn’t get from someone else.  Junkrat opened his mouth wider and craned his neck to slurp up the head of Roadhog’s prick, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked him and fucked him at the same time.  His own cock, previously spent from a good hard hog-ride, was starting to stir again.

Junkrat never got a proper warning before Roadhog released, and he suspects it’s on purpose because the fuckin’ sadist loves to watch him choke and gag as hot come spills into his mouth and down his throat.  He turned his head, hacking and coughing and spitting up seed as more of it splashed along his cheek and into his hair, Roadhog’s asshole tightened around his arm briefly before he stood up and let it slip out with a wet, sloppy sound.

“Fuck-” Junkrat snorted out, shaking his head like a dog with water in it’s ears.  “Shit you shitting-” Roadhog was lumbering away, scratching his stomach where some of Junkrat’s come was flaking away.  “Oy ya just gonna leave me like this, ya bastard!” he gestured to his half-hard cock.

“Take care of it yourself,” he growled.

“See if oi letcha do that again!” Junkrat called shrilly after him, fisting his own cock sullenly.

He’d let him.


	3. Stuffed

Junkrat was splayed out over his bedroll, arms over his head and legs spread around Roadhog’s thighs.  He had that stupid grin on his face, the one Roadhog sometimes wanted to punch clean off when he was hooting and giggling in the middle of a job.  It was tolerable now, if only because there was a flush visible through the soot on his face and his eyes were focused completely on Roadhog.  

“Come on, Hoggie,” he panted, arching his hips up, his peg leg digging painfully into Roadhog’s side, “Come on, oi’m not gonna wait ‘till fuckin’ dawn!”

“You’ll wait as long as I tell you to wait,” Roadhog growled behind his mask, “got it, Jamison?”

Junkrat tittered as if that were the funniest thing he’d heard all week, “Oh, yeah.  Yeah yeah yeah! I got it.  Got you.”  Though as he said it he was pulling his leg back to kick Roadhog in the gut.

“Knock it off!” he snarled, grabbing Junkrat’s skinny ankle and giving it a squeeze until he positively squealed.  The second he let up Junkrat went limp, chest heaving for breath as he grinned inanely up at him, as if that was what he’d wanted the whole time, considering how hard his cock was between his legs that was probably true.

Only once it looked like Junkrat was completely done acting out, for the moment, did Roadhog hoist his legs back up to haul him towards his cock, rubbing the fat head against his sloppy asshole.  They’d spent all last night stretching him then stuffed a plug in him to wear for the day, because taking Roadhog’s cock wasn’t something that could be done on the spur of the moment.  Junkrat was grinning up at him, teeth bared and eyes wild as he panted and waited; Roadhog could feel his thighs trembling against his hands.

He went slow at first, just getting the first two inches of his cock past the initial resistance, letting the head pop in with wet sound.  Jamie was dripping with lube, but Roadhog paused to slather more onto his shaft before he continued to push forward, savoring the sloppy sounds of flesh sliding against flesh, and how it mixed with Junkrat’s short, sharp panting.  Though he enjoyed watching how Junkrat stretched to accommodate him, what he kept his eye on was his concave stomach.

Roadhog had never fucked a skinnier person before, and though the muscles Junkrat had were firm, his stomach still tucked under his ribs with malnourishment.  It let Roadhog watch that stomach bulge as his cock pushed inside him.  Junkrat was starting to make noises again, but thankfully he seemed too overwhelmed to form words.  Roadhog reached forward, letting go of Jamie’s skinny flesh leg to press his palm down and feel how his own cock shifted under his skin.

“Oy!” Junkrat wheezed as Roadhog pressed down and grunted to feel the pressure on his dick.

Only once he was balls deep did Roadhog pause, tracing the vague outline of his cock under Junkrat’s heaving stomach.  Then he pulled out so only the tip spread him wide, and thrust forward with a low grunt.  Junkrat howled like a wounded animal, hands fisting in his wild hair as he was fucked ruthlessly.  If any animal survived in the outback, Roadhog would be worried about them being summoned, but they were alone for miles around.

Every hard thrust filled Junkrat to the brim, and if Roadhog grabbed his bony hips and arched him just right he made his cock stand out more under his pale and dirty skin, seeing it thrust in and out again and again.  

“Come on, ya fat ass-mmph!” Junkrat glared as Roadhog leaned in to slap a palm over his mouth with a growl, sticking his mask right up into his face so his pig snout hit the back of his own hand.

“Shut. Up.”  He punctuated each word with a thrust.

Junkrat just licked the palm of his hand.  Roadhog grimaced with disgust, but it wasn’t like Junkrat could see that.  He kept his hand over Junkrat’s mouth, not in the mood to have his good time ruined by insane prattle and tittering.  After he’d come he’d let Junkrat run his mouth as he pleased, but for right _now_ …

“Ung!”  The pleasure finally crested and Roadhog shoved in deep, letting each burst of come spill deep into Junkrat’s ass.  He ground shallowly against his skinny hips, until Junkrat went stiff and let out a muffled sound of pleasure, manic eyes finally shutting as he came all over his own chest and belly.

“Oi…Oi think that was worth th’ wait,” was the first thing Junkrat muttered as Roadhog removed his hand.  

He just grunted in reply.

Pulling out brought forth a rush of come, Junkrat’s ass gaping and twitching around nothing.  Yes, he rather thought it was worth the wait as well.


	4. Crunch

Roadhog supposed he’d been…well… lucky wasn’t the right word to use, couldn’t use that word when your home had been turned into an irradiated wasteland, but he had been old enough to take care of himself the whole time; to get work, earn pay, eat real food and drive his chopper long distances to get what he needed.

He hadn’t even considered what it would be like for a five year old boy growing up.  No transportation, no skills beyond what it took to survive in the harshest environment in the world.  Junkrat wasn’t a kid anymore, Roadhog thought he was just past 20 but it was hard to tell when he was so dirty and had chunks of hair missing from radiation poisoning and constantly catching himself in his own fiery explosions.

His habits from childhood, however, were well ingrained.  Roadhog had first noticed them after they’d set up camp in the middle of the outback on their way out of Junkertown and the people who wanted Junkrat’s treasure.  He’d just been hired, didn’t know shit about the kid except he never shut up.  Then at camp he was still chattering as he kicked or pushed over stones around their camp.

Roadhog wasn’t watching him too closely, if Junkrat went silent he’d know something was wrong.  He heard an “Ah ha, ya devil!” Then crunching. 

“What are you doing?” Roadhog grunted, poking their fire with a stick.

“Eating dinner,” said Junkrat from somewhere behind him, “Ya want somfin; I could probably catch you a-”

“Shut up,” Roadhog growled, sorry he’d asked.

A couple weeks later he finally saw it with his own two eyes; Junkrat scurrying eagerly over the dirt after a giant beetle.  Roadhog had seen a lot of pretty gross shit in his lifetime, but watching Junkrat stuff a dirty, wriggling beetle in his mouth and crunch down on it had to be in the top eight.  

“We have food!” he grunted, pointing to their freshly refilled saddlebags that had chips and canned food and all kinds of things better than a beetle.

“Oh…yeah,” said Junkrat, picking legs out of his teeth, “Oi forgot.”

Eventually, Roadhog just learned to grab him when he started overturning rocks or digging under dead bushes.  Bugs that thrived on radiation couldn’t be good for Junkrat, and as his bodyguard Roadhog didn’t relish watching the idiot waste away because he wouldn’t stop eating spiders.

“Did ya see the look on that guy’s face when I lobbed that bomb at him?” Junkrat howled at camp, slapping his knee as he hobbled around the fire gathering sticks from nearby dead bushes.  “Like his soul departed his body, eh, Roadie? Eh? Ya see it? BOOM it really did didn’t it? Ehehahahe!”  High pitched tittering and the sound of Junkrat’s peg leg stomping in the dirt as he wriggled with glee.

Roadhog just grunted, he’d stolen a newspaper and wanted to do the crossword in peace.  Junkrat was still yammering on about something or other as he flopped down over Roadhog’s legs, looking up into the sky, always cloudy with pollution out here, and chattered.

“Oi that’s a fat one!”

Roadhog lowered the paper just in time to see Junkrat lurch off his lap to skitter gracelessly after something that had darted under a nearby rock.  He grabbed it and stuffed it into his mouth, a hairy leg poking out from between his lips.

“Spit that out!” Roadhog snapped, grabbing Junkrat by the throat and sticking a finger in his mouth to fish out the giant Huntsman spider and toss it into the fire.  “Sit down, shut up, and quit eating anything you see crawling over the ground.”

Junkrat sat down, shut up for all of two seconds, and then launched himself at another rock when he saw something flash through the flickering shadows.  Roadhog let out a long suffering sigh and pulled the paper closer to his eyes so he couldn’t see whatever Junkrat was stuffing into his mouth this time.

He decided this just wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on.


	5. Read to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat doesn't know how to read, he hopes Roadhog will read out loud to him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to drop roadrat prompts at my tumblr [ohgodsalazarwhy](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com). I also take [commissions](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/post/129244375479/commissions)!

“Pass th’ crisps,” Junkrat held up his hand without taking his eyes off the special on the TV that was all about them. He fucking loved these things, look at them go! Junkrat tittered as he watched footage of him and Hoggy making a spectacular and explosive getaway.

He didn’t have any crisps. Junkrat turned to Roadhog with a scowl, “Pass th’ crisps fatas-ACK!” He sputtered and swore as the bag hit him right in the face before falling into his lap. “Touchy!” He crowed, holding the bag in one hand and ripping into it with his teeth. He’d taken his prosthetics off already just to give his skin time to breath.

“Shut up,” Roadhog rumbled. He wasn’t watching the news, he was reading a book. The paperback looked tiny in his massive hands, but he turned each page with surprising delicacy.

“What’re ya reading, Roadie?” Junkrat asked, spitting out some crisps as he chewed and talked at the same time.

Roadhog made a muffled sound of frustration, “Watch the TV,” he grunted.

“Nah,” Junkrat licked salt and grease off his fingers, squirming from his bed and into Roadhog’s. He pushed himself onto Hog’s lap and popped out between his arms to squint at the pages of the book. “Wazzat say?” He asked, shoving one greasy, wet finger against the page, leaving behind a smear before Roadhog managed to grab his wrist and yank it away.

“Knock it off!” Hog snarled, the snout on his mask bumping against the back of Junkrat’s head.

“Read it to me,” said Junkrat as the words seemed to dance illegibly before his eyes. He could read small words, sort of. Well, he recognized some words here and there. He could write his name.

A big hand closed around his neck and squeezed, tossing him like a sack of garbage to the dirty motel floor with a thump. Junkrat yelped, thrashing to sit up and scramble back before that same hand could slap him upside the head. “Shut the FUCK up!” Roadhog snarled, “Two seconds of silence to read!”

“I…I jus’ wanted ta read too,” said Junkrat, hating how small his voice sounded.

“It’s not my fault you’re too damn stupid to learn!” Roadhog snapped, “Sit down and shut up!”

Junkrat’s breathing felt harsh in his throat as he blinked back tears. “W-werent meanin’ nothin’,” he muttered, voice barely loud enough to be heard over the blaring TV. “Jus’ wanted ta…” He trailed off, crawling back onto his bed to curl up among the wrappers and crumbs of the junk food he’d been eating.

It was silent, or as silent as Junkrat could make it while smothering down sobs. He weren’t stupid, he’d just never got the chance to learn. Didn’t have no fancy school learnin’ like Hog did, no schools in Junkertown.

From the other side of the room he heard Hog give one of his frustrated growls. “I’m being as quiet as I can!” Junkrat snapped shrilly, “if you want me quieter then ya can jus’ snap me neck-!”

Hands wrapped around his waist and Junkrat shrieked in shock as he was picked up, “I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean it don’t snap-” he was set back down in Roadhog’s lap, back against belly as he sat cross-legged on Junkrat’s bed.

Roadhog cleared his throat, holding the book out so he could read from over Junkrat’s shoulder, “Chapter 1…”

Junkrat didn’t much enjoy reading, he found it boring to hear something instead of watching it. However Hog was warm and comfortable and his deep growling voice had Junkrat drooling and snoring in minutes.

——-

Roadhog went silent the second Junkrat flopped against him, tongue poking out between his lips as he slept. Dumb kid, he thought as he ran his fingers through Junkrat’s patchy hair. He adjusted his grip to keep Junkrat securely in his arms and went back to reading–in silence.


	6. Perfect Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat pulls all the moves to try and seduce Roadhog

Junkrat tossed and turned on the bed as Roadhog sat against the headboard watching television.  He had his mask off, sitting in arms reach on the bedside table, and the light of the TV flickered in his dark brown eyes.  Junkrat was bored of the TV, he was bored of tinkering… he wanted Roadhog to stop watching TV and pay attention to him.

He’d been told to shut up earlier, then that had been followed up by a warning squeeze to his neck, so Junkrat wasn’t sure he wanted to just pop up and ask Roadhog if he wanted to fuck.

Why ask with his mouth when he could ask with his _body_?  Junkrat watched Hog out of the corner of his eye as he kicked off the blankets and arched with a little whimper, feeling his shorts slide indecently down his hips.  Eventually he couldn’t arch anymore, and Roadhog wasn’t even looking at him, so Junkrat fell back with a slight bounce.

“Ohhh,” he moaned, bottom lip pushing out in a pout as he slid his peg leg up Roadhog’s leg.

Roadhog looked a him, but it was only to snarl, “Don’t!”

Oh yeah, the joints of his prosthetic had a habit of yanking out body hair.  Junkrat removed them quickly, pushing them to the floor then stretching with a low groan so he flopped over Roadhog’s lap.  Roadhog looked down, eyes narrowing as Junkrat grinned up at him, not goofy…all…seductive like.

He was rolled off Hog’s lap.  Junkrat twisted, with the intent to snuggle up against Hog’s thigh, maybe rut until he got the damn idea, but there wasn’t any space on the other side of Hog’s lap, and he found himself rolling right over the edge of the bed with an undignified yelp.

“Hawhawhaw!” Roadhog guffawed loudly as Junkrat scrambled back onto the bed with a hiss.

“Fuck ya, ya drongo!” he spat, cheeks flushing with humiliation, “you’d rather sit on your fat ass watchin’ TV than fuck me!”

A big hand wrapped around his throat, pinning him against the bed with a wheeze, “You got a lot of nerve, Rat!” Hog spat, lips curling as he leaned in close until their noses brushed.  

“Betcha can’t get it up, old man!” Junkrat thrashed, clawing fruitlessly at Roadhog’s meaty hand.

Instead of snapping his neck, or strangling him into unconsciousness, Roadhog lightly bit the tip of Junkrat’s nose with a smirk, “You tellin’ me all that rolling around was supposed to get me up?”

“I was being seductive,” Junkrat whined, seductively.

Roadhog snorted, “I can’t believe I’m saying this…but in the future, just say something.”

“Fuck me?” Junkrat asked hopefully.

Roadhog pulled him into a kiss and Junkrat giggled.  Roadhog wouldn’t admit it, but Junkrat knew better… his moves had worked.


	7. A Joke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roadhog tells Junkrat a joke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send me roadrat requests at [ohgodsalazarwhy](ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com)

Junkrat sat on the edge of his bed, picking dirt out from under his toenails with a pocketknife. His tongue was poking out in concentration as he worked.

“What do you call a pig who drives recklessly?” Roadhog grunted, apropos of nothing.

Junkrat’s head jerked up in shock, knife slipping and almost cutting off his pinky toe. He still had his tongue sticking out, he looked ridiculous. “What’re ya doin’, mate?” He asked, sounding a tad nervous.

Roadhog smirked behind his mask, “A road hog.”

Junkrat’s laughter was shrill and sudden, his dirty knife dropping to the floor. It cut off as soon as it had come. “Ya told me a joke!” He gasped, standing up and almost cutting open his foot.

Roadhog said nothing, just sat back to watch Junkrat work himself up.

“Old stick in the mud Hoggy told me a joke!” Junkrat’s delight morphed immediately into suspicion, “Why ya tellin’ me a joke? Wot’s goin’ on?!”

Roadhog stood with a grunt, just so he could bend down until his snout was in Junkrat’s face, “You wanna know why, Rat?” He rumbled.

Junkrat nodded frantically, looking like a novelty bobblehead.

“Because no one will ever believe you when you tell them about it,” Roadhog whispered with twisted glee.

“Yer a monster, Roadie! A complete monster!” Junkrat accused shrilly, punching him in the gut, though he barely felt it.

Roadhog guffawed, it was the little things.


	8. Drugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat's not an addict, but he doesn't know better either

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey follow me on tumblr [ohgodsalazarwhy](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com)

The storm licked at their heels like a rabid dog, but they managed to find shelter in an old, derelict house just before the acid rains started to fall. Roadhog pushed his bike into what was once probably a livingroom while Junkrat dragged in his sidecar, grunting and complaining about the storm.

Roadhog sat down with a sigh, hands folded over his stomach as he prepared to wait out the storm. As far as shelter went, this place was nice, the roof and windows didn’t leak and it was somewhat warm. Not a bad place to relax and catch his breath before continuing. Junkrat, on the other hand, had already started to scavenge. He loped from room to room, tearing into ancient drywall, flipping mattresses, and smashing wardrobes. If the house hadn’t been trashed before they arrived, it almost certainly would have been by the time Junkrat was done with it.

Junkrat was in the corner of the living room tearing up floorboards while tittering at the wanton destruction, when he let out a sudden crow of excitement that told Roadhog he’d actually found something.  “Roadie! Roadie! Found some good shit, get yer ass over here!”

That could mean anything from money to rotten food; Roadhog had seen him get excited over both.  He reluctantly pushed himself to his feet to check out Junkrat’s find.  It was probably a rat burrow or a mummified dog or something.

Oh no, it was actually drugs.

A lot of them.

“Mate, this storm just got a lot more interesting!” Junkrat laughed wildly as he pulled out a handful of little baggies.  Roadhog thought he saw meth, maybe coke or heroin, but it was hard to tell when Junkrat was scooping it all into his arms.  Roadhog took note of the paraphernalia still in the hole, as well as packs of cigarettes.  He grimaced behind his mask, they’d obviously stumbled into a drug lord’s old home.

Junkrat was humming to himself as his shaking fingers tried to pry open one of the dime bags, intent on getting at whatever was in there.  Roadhog knew he wasn’t a fuckin’ addict, they’d spent enough days together for him to know that much, but he obviously had prior experience of some kind.

“Don’t,” he growled, squatting down to slap everything out of Junkrat’s hands.

“Oy!” Junkrat rubbed his hand, scowling up at Hog, “Don’t be a cunt, mate, I’m just thinkin’ we don’t need to sit here all bored-like!  Have you tried this stuff?  Makes you feel real good!”

Roadhog was unsure if Junkrat was referring to the coke, the meth, or the heroin.  Perhaps it was all three; perhaps he didn’t know the difference between them.  That Junkrat was at least familiar with them, had tried them, wasn’t a huge surprise.  It was honestly more of a surprise that he hadn’t ended up an addict, overdosing in the middle of the street.

Roadhog had seen it happen before.  It was sickeningly common for kids to end up as drug runners; but why wouldn’t they?  It got them food, shelter, water, tokens, and yes, even product.  They didn’t know shit about the stuff they carried, they just knew if they took some it released them from the thirst, or hunger, or pain.  How Junkrat avoided the same fate was anyone’s guess, probably including Junkrat’s, but Roadhog imagined he’d always been more interested in scrapping and tinkering more than following the orders of some drug lord.

He’d been silent for too long; Junrkat was digging through the dime bags again.  Roadhog growled, grabbing Rat by the back of his straps and throwing him aside.  He yelped like a kicked dingo as he slammed into a wall, sliding down looking a little dazed.  “Roadie!” Junkrat had the audacity to sound hurt.

Roadhog ignored him, scooping up every bag, every brick in the hole and lumbered to the front door.

“Oy! Oy!” Junkrat scrambled after him, pawing fruitlessly at his arms, “What’re ya doin’?! Hey!”

He wasn’t a bleeding heart, he didn’t shed a tear for all the tiny little corpses he’d spied in alleyways and under porches; but some part of Roadhog, perhaps that buried bit that was still Mako, feared to know he might see Junkrat like that.  Junkrat, begging and sobbing for his next fix, or choking to death on his own vomit.  Junkrat had been lucky thus far, but he didn’t need luck anymore–he’d hired Roadhog.

Wind roared outside and Roadhog waited for it to die down before he opened the door.  Junkrat instinctively jumped away from him with a yell of alarm, “Hoggy what the _fuck_ are ya doin’?!” he screeched, “Yer gonna get us killed shut the fuckin’ door!”

Roadhog tossed his armful of drugs out into the rain, watching them hiss and dissolve as the rain pattered on them.  If had had any doubts about Junkrat’s level of addiction they were squashed when he didn’t try to run into the rain after the stash.  Roadhog had known plenty of junkies who would have.  Instead Junkrat squawked loud enough to give Roadhog the beginnings of a headache.  He slammed the door shut as Junkrat yelled.

“Mate yer wastin’ perfectly good- HRK!”

He grabbed Junkrat by the throat, lifting him clean off his feet to slam him against the wall.  Roadhog reached back with one hand, undoing the straps just enough to slip off the mask so he could glare right into Junkrat’s eyes, making sure he was paying complete attention.  “If you remember only one thing about today, remember this,” Roadhog snarled, enjoying the look of shock in Rat’s wide eyes, “ you are _never_ to touch that shit again!”

“Roa-HRG!” Junkrat’s heel kicked a hole in the brittle drywall as Roadhog tightened his grip to shut him up.

“You hired me to keep you alive, Jamison, you hear me?” Junkrat gurgled at the sound of his real name, “Even from your own stupid self.  Got it?!”

Junkrat made choked sounds of agreement so Roadhog dropped him and considered the matter closed.  He walked back into the living room as behind him Junkrat wheezed and coughed, rubbing his throat which was rapidly blooming into a fresh, violent bruise.  Roadhog stopped by the hole in the floor, bending down to grab a pack of cigarettes and chuck it at Junkrat’s face, “Here, you can smoke these.”

Junkrat was uncharacteristically silent as he lit up a cigarette, coughing at the first inhale but settling down after that.  Roadhog strapped his mask back on and sat down, back against the wall.  After a moment Junkrat crawled hesitantly into his lap, tense and ready to run should Roadhog lash out.  When he made no move to hit him, Junkrat curled up like a dog, his head on Roadhog’s thigh.  Smoke rose lazily from Junrkat’s cigarette, disappearing into the filters on his mask. 

It was hard to tell what Junkrat would or would not remember, no doubt if they ran across something like this again he’d be digging through it once more.  Roadhog was used to reminding him, that was fine.  He was getting paid to keep Jamie alive, and that included from all the little dangers that he himself was unaware of, raised as he was by the unforgiving wasteland.

Outside the rain pattered on the roof and the wind shuddered the dusty old windows; while inside Roadhog dozed and Junkrat smoked his undoubtedly stale cigarette in complete silence.


	9. Drunk Makeouts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat is a lousy drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr is [ohgodsalazarwhy](http://ohgodsalazarywhy.tumblr.com) and I take requests and commissions!

Junkrat hadn’t had many opportunities to get drunk in his short life.  Roadhog chocked this up to alcohol being a commodity in Junkertown, so sure Junkrat could afford a glass here and there, but when you had tokens they were better spent on food.  Roadhog eyed Junkrat’s shrunken belly and thought he could have used a few more meals growing up.

They weren’t in Junkertown anymore, and they weren’t paying for shit.  It wasn’t even Junkrat who had grabbed the bottle of whiskey, Roadhog had, but Junkrat was guzzling it like it was water regardless.  Roadhog took more conservative shots and watched Junkrat unravel before him as the night progressed.  The first thing the alcohol did was ramp him up to 11, and he shot around the hotel room hooting and hollering, destroying the electronics and slicing up his mattress.  He smashed the sink, then threw a paperweight through the bathroom window.

“Oi’ love it!” he yelled, standing with one foot on the edge of his trashed mattress as if he were an intrepid explorer.

Then he crashed, _hard_.

Junkrat threw himself on the bed, sobbing and crying and babbling out what sounded more or less like total nonsense.  “An’ me mum!” he sobbed, looking at Roadhog with big tear-stained eyes, “she used ta sing ta me!”

“You don’t remember your mother,” Roadhog grunted, sipping his glass of whiskey, he was feeling only slightly buzzed.

Junkrat looked offended, “Well nah but… but she musta done that roight?  What mum don’t?!”  He burst into tears again.

After the crying came the desperate need for touch.  Roadhog growled as Junkrat crawled into his lap, sniffing and rubbing his face–tears, snot, drool and all– against Roadhog’s shoulder.

“Roadie yer me best mate,” Junkrat sniffed, arms wrapping around Roadhog’s neck to play with the soft hairs at the base of his neck.  “I love ya, Roadie.  Love ya so much!”  He rubbed more snot on Roadhog’s shoulder.

It would be cute, if Junkrat wasn’t drooling all over him.

The nuzzling turned to kissing, predictably, Junkrat’s lips moving from Hog’s shoulder to his neck and then along his jaw before he got to his lips.  Roadhog sighed, giving in to Junkrat’s little whimpers and capturing his lips in a kiss.  He tasted like the whiskey, a surprisingly good taste for him.  Roadhog curled his fingers around Junkrat’s waist to haul him in closer, letting him grind against his belly.

The kisses turned from soft to hard as Junkrat got greedy and wanton.  He whimpered and muttered against Roadhog’s lips, fingers kneading against his back and shoulders as if to pull him closer than they already were.  Like everything Junkrat did, his kisses were messy, rough, and without any semblance of technique.  Roadhog guided him and Junkrat melted into every suggestion eagerly.

“Hey,” Roadhog grunted, grabbing Junkrat by the hair to peel him away from his face.  

Junkrat keened desperately at the loss.

“I love you too,” he growled.

“R-Roadie!” Junkrat shuddered and a wet spot spread out on the crotch of his shorts as he came from that alone.  He passed out seconds later, flopping against Roadhog’s chest, drunk and sated.

Yeah, Roadhog thought, brushing his hand through Junkrat’s patchy hair, he loved this stupid, ridiculous kid.  Thankfully, Junkrat wouldn’t remember him saying that come morning, couldn’t risk his reputation, now could he?


	10. First Kiss

“Hahahaha! We sure showed ‘em, didn’ we, Roadie?” Junkrat cackled and grabbed him by his harness to press a big wet kiss against the front of his mask before he dropped down and loped up the stairs.

Roadhog rumbled and wiped at the snout of his mask, following Junkrat at a more leisurely pace.  Rat had been doing that for a couple months now, kissing his mask when he got excited.  At first Roadhog had snarled and punched him for it, but that hadn’t deterred him.  Now it was mostly frustrating.  Not because Junkrat was drooler, though he was, but because Roadhog was starting to want more than that.

Which was infuriating.  How dare Junkrat make him want those thin, nasty lips.  He’d seen him eat spiders before.  He shouldn’t want this.

Junkrat was jumping around their motel room by the time Roadhog got up there to join him.  He was full of fire after their escape from the local cops and that usually manifested in loud and wanton destruction of whatever place he happened to be in.  Roadhog didn’t want to deal with it tonight.

“Rat,” he barked as Junkrat climbed onto the bed to start jumping, “come here!”

“Oy ya can’t tell me wot ta do!” Junkrat said, bending his knees to start bouncing.

“Jamison!” Roadhog snarled.

Junkrat froze in place, knees bent, arms tucked in, eyes wide.  Roadhog knew he had about half a second so he moved in and grabbed Rat by his harness, hauling him in close so his nose bumped against Roadhog’s snout.

“Mate?” Junkrat asked a little breathlessly, his pupils dilating.

“No destroying the room tonight,” Roadhog growled, taking one hand and pushing his mask up off his head so he could glare at Junkrat without the glass and leather between them.  Without the filters he could smell the musty room, but more than that he could smell the stink of Junkrat’s sweat, his nasty breath as he panted slightly.  His eyes were on Hog’s lips.

Unsubtle idiot.

Roadhog cupped the back of his head, fingers tangling in his dirty, greasy hair.  Yeah, Junkrat was obviously infatuated and had been for awhile; it was impossible to miss.  Yet Roadhog was the one who felt the fool because he liked the skinny little fuck too.  Junkrat darted in before Hog even tugged at him, their lips crashing together, teeth biting and noses bumping.  It was the messiest, probably grossest kiss Roadhog had ever experienced.  Junkrat had no finesse, no patience; but he was brimming over with an eagerness that seemed to make up for it.

“Jamie,” Roadhog grunted, using his grip on Rat’s hair to tug him back long enough for him to catch his breath, “let’s put that energy to better use.  Get on your knees.”

“Yeah, mate!” Junkrat panted, darting in for more kisses even though it had to hurt his scalp to pull against Hog’s grip.  “My Hoggy, anythin’ ya want.  Anythin’.”

As far as first kisses went, it was the furthest thing from romance Roadhog could imagine.  Which worked for him, neither he nor Junkrat were romance-type people.  Junkrat fell to his knees with an eager smile stretching his lips, vibrant eyes bright with want as he rest his hands on Hog’s thick thighs.

Now to channel all that energy _productively_.

 


	11. Junkenstein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkenstein gets fucked by his monster and he just, gosh, he really likes it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can still find me at [](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/>ohgodsalazarwhy</a>%20where%20you%20can%20make%20requests,%20commission%20me,%20or%20just%20chat%20to%20me%20about%20roadrat%20because%20it's%20my%20favorite%20thing%20to%20talk%20about%20right%20now.%20%20%0A%0ACheers,%20mates)

The sound of thunder proceeded huge footsteps that put mother nature to shame.  Jamison looked up from his notes as his monster, his pride and joy, stormed into the lab dripping wet with more than water.  He was slick with blood, and none of it his.

The monster had been venturing farther and farther afield, sometimes even gone for weeks at a time.  Jamison worried when he was gone, but found that attempts to stop him were usually worse than the worry; he rubbed at his freshly healed arm.

“Welcome back!” He crowed as the monster sat down on the work table with a tired huff through his snout, sending out plumes of steam.  It was cold in Jamison’s castle.

“Yer a real sight fer sore eyes!” He continued, taking a few cautious steps towards his beloved creation, “Lemme clean ya up, we can rest together…?” The last bit curled up into a shrill question as the monster turned his beady black eyes right on Jamison.  He could be so unpredictable sometimes, and Jamison had made him so strong…well…caution was the better part of valor, as they said.

The monster nodded slowly and Jamison relaxed, moving in again with more confidence to help his beautiful creature strip naked so Jamison could take a rag to him. He’d built every inch of him to perfection, and even now, months after bringing him to life, Jamison drooled at the sight of him completely bared.  The townsfolk had called him sick, a monster, a pervert.   Well…they had before his monster had ripped them all to shreds.  Jamison wiped blood away from the green chest, leaning in with his lips parted to suck on a nipple as his rag dipped lower.

The massive cock stirred under his touch, as cold as ever, but growing hard.  Jamison gasped as his monster snarled and wrapped him up in his arms, picking him up and depositing him on the table.  “Hungry, are ya?” he gasped as hands big enough to crush his skull just ripped open the crotch of his tights under his lab coat.

The monster didn’t speak, hardly did, he just flipped Jamison onto his stomach and shoved his coat up so he was bared to the cold air, tights in tatters.  He fumbled for one of the vials on his harness, his own cock growing hard between his spread legs.  Cold hands were stroking up his thighs to grab his skinny ass and squeeze harshly.

“Use it!” he ordered breathlessly, thrusting the vial back towards his demanding creature.

The first time they’d done this… oh the hunger in this monster… a hunger for more than blood and destruction.  Jamison had relished it even as it had terrified him.  The monster was enormous everywhere and Jamison… he was not.  Big fingers were prodding at his asshole, rubbing with shocking restraint tonight to get him to relax and open to his touch.

“Missed ya,” Jamison sighed, crossing his arms over the cold table to rest his cheek on the warm flesh arm.  He spread his legs a little wider, standing up on his toes as that finger finally pressed inside his asshole, a cold intrusion that he’d dreamed about since waking up two weeks ago to an empty bed.

His creature gave a low rumble which curled Jamison’s toes in his boot.  He’d missed him too!  He was sure that was what that meant!  Slicked by the concoction from the vial, the monster’s finger pushed in and out of Jamison’s asshole, stretching him wider than some other men’s cocks…but it wasn’t enough… not after he’d tasted so much more.

Two fingers and Jamison was a whimpering mess, hair starting to stick to his sweaty forehead and goggles fogging up as he panted loudly.  He impatiently ripped them off and tossed them aside, blinking as the world went a bit blurry around him.  His cock was painfully neglected, but Jamison refused to reach down and touch himself for fear he’d come too soon.  If he did, the monster would fuck him until he was sobbing with over stimulation.

Best to be patient.

The monster’s thick cock started rubbing against the back of Jamison’s thigh as he slowly withdrew his fingers and left him empty.  Not that the monster gave him enough time to beg for more.  That fat cock pressed up against his twitching hole, cold and slick as it pressed inexorably forward.

“Ah! Ah!” Jamison whimpered, forehead pressing against his arm as he was stretched to his limit, pain and pleasure swirling in his gut and his cock dripping precum which smeared against his shaft and trickled down his balls.  It never failed to overwhelm him at first, no matter how many times he’d been fucked by his beautiful creature.

Once he was seated fully, heavy balls pressed against Jamison’s ass, hands tight on his hips, the monster started to fuck him.  Hard.  It was all he could do just to breathe as that big belly pressed against his back and those hands left bruises on his hips.  Jamison wailed with pleasure, drowning out the rain and thunder in a cacophony of sloppy desire.

His creature’s cock rubbed him, filled him, in all the right ways.  It was, quite literally, made for Jamison.  He came without being touched, spilling messily onto the floor as heat throbbed through his body with each pulse of come that dripped from the head of his cock. 

The monster kept going at his ruthless pace as if he hadn’t noticed Jamison crying and drooling with pleasure below him.  Maybe he hadn’t.  To the crack of thunder his beautiful creation came with a roar, cock pulsing as he filled Jamison to the brim with his come, so copiously that it leaked out around his shaft to make a mess of Jamison’s trembling thighs.

“Good boy,” Jamison praised weakly as the monster pulled out of him with a grunt.  “So good, so perfect.  I love ya.  Adore ya.  Mmmng-” Jamison yawned as he was picked up and cradled against his creature’s broad chest, head resting against his shoulder.

“Bed,” said his monster, voice deeper than the thrum of any storm.  Even such a simple word was like a drop of hot water in Jamison’s belly, still fluttering with the warmth of his orgasm.

“Bed,” he agreed, looking up into his creature’s slightly blurry face with pure adoration.  Whatever favor the Witch asked of him, he would do it without complaint.

It had all been worth it for this.


	12. Old Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat learns how old Roadhog is, and is stunned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another request filled

Junkrat rapped his knuckles on the dirty bar as he and Roadhog settled on ancient stools.  Roadhog’s groaned but didn’t break under his massive size.  “Oy!” Junkrat yelled when the bartender studiously ignored them, “A couple-a drinks over here for me an’ me mate!”  He dropped a couple of tokens on the stained wood and only then did the bartender dart over to scoop them up and pour two big shots of watered down whiskey.

“To our first big job!” Junkrat crowed, clinking his glass against Roadhog’s, “Pretty noice work there, Roadie, with the ropes an’ those barrels!”  Junkrat giggled and drummed his peg and foot against the side of the bar with delight as he remembered those barrels of black powder exploding as they fell on to the fire he’d started earlier.

Honestly, they were pretty lucky they hadn’t _also_ been blown up.

Roadhog grunted, pushing his mask just far enough up to free his thick lips and sip at his drink.

Junkrat swallowed his down all at once, eyes darting all over the bar as he squirmed on his stool.  It was pretty full which wasn’t too surprising.  These Outback border towns had more people livin’ in ‘em than the ones Junkrat was used to, deep near the Omnium explosion where only the strongest survived.

“Hey wanker,” a high voice came from right behind him and Junkrat twisted with a frown.  A group of teenagers had gathered behind him and Roadhog, all of them holding makeshift weapons.  “You got tokens?” said the leader, a girl so thick she looked like she could grow to Roadhog’s size if given the opportunity.

Or the food.

“Ain’t got nothin’ for you, kids,” Junkrat snapped, “So fuck off.”

The local gang, here to rustle money from strangers.

“We wasn’t askin’ nicely, you ugly cunt!” she snarled, knuckles going white as she tightened her grip on a bat covered in barbed wire.  “Hand ‘em over, old man!”

Junkrat grinned and elbowed Roadhog, “Would ya listen ta that!  These ickle little chillins wanna tussle with us old men, eh?  Eh?  Let’s kick their asses, Roadie!”

Roadhog grunted, not looking over and not stopping his leisurely drinking, “Not beating up little kids.”

“We ain’t kids!  Stop callin’ us that!”  said a boy just behind their leader, his voice shrill. He had a metal pipe.

“Foine, be that way,” Junkrat pouted, “I ain’t got no reservations about blowin’ all ya ta kingdom come.  Ya don’t wanna be as old as me?  Foine, let’s go, try an’ take me tokens!” He unfolded himself from the stool, towering over each and every one of them by more than a foot.  Reservation flickered in their eyes, and it turned to fear as he pulled his launcher off his back.

They clearly hadn’t realized how big he was, nor had they realized what kind of heat he was packing.  All at once their line broke and they ran out of the bar with shouts of alarm.  Junkrat hadn’t even had to put his finger on the trigger.  He howled with laughter, bending over to slap his knee as their yells petered off into the distance.

“Did ya see that, Hoggy?” he laughed, jabbing Roadhog with his elbow again, “Did ya? Did ya!? Hahahaa! Hoo hoo! Holy Dooley the look on their faces!  Ain’t no match for old men like us!”

“You’re not much older than they are,” Roadhog growled, “shut up.”

That felt worse than a punch to the gut, and Junkrat would know, he’d been punched tons of times.  “Oi’m years older than them!” he protested shrilly, “You an’ I, we’re _way_ older-”

“You’re a kid.” Roadhog growled.

“A kid!?”  Junkrat hadn’t been called a kid in… in fuckin’ years!  He’d outlived everyone he’d ever grown up with by _ages_!  

Roadhog turned to look at him, his lips pulled into a frown, “You’re what…” he seemed to be doing mental calculations, “not more than 25 if you’re a day.”

Junkrat’s face scrunched up in thought, ticking off fingers as he tried to count backwards as best he could.  Eh.  Well, that was probably right.  “25 is old!” he countered, “yer proving me point for me, Hoggy.  How old are you?  27?  30? I told ya, we’re old men!”

“48.”

Junkrat stuttered but not a single word came out.  This is what it felt like to be speechless?  He hated it.  Wait… no… “Ah!” He barked out a laugh, “Tha’s a funny joke, Hoggy!  Almost got me!”  Junkrat tittered.

“Not a joke.”

“Ehhh…” Junkrat drummed his fingers on the counter, narrowing his eyes at Roadhog.  48 years old?  He was goddamn ancient if that was true.  It couldn’t be true… could it?  Junkrat knew he’d lived during the Before Time but that would make him nearly 30 by the time the Omnium had even exploded.  That was…that was insane.  How…  Junkrat shook his head like a dog with water in its ears, having a hard time reconciling the Roadhog he saw before him, hunched over the bar drinking, with his thought of what someone 48 years old should look like.

A 48 year old should look dead.  A corpse.  

Roadhog didn’t tell jokes that often, and when he did they weren’t…like this.  Junkrat swallowed, “Yer… yer really that old?” he said at last, stomach clenching with awe.

Roadhog grunted and nodded sharply.

“Phoaw,” Junkrat breathed, leaning forward to run his palm along Roadhog’s massive arm, “Yer so old.  Ancient, Roadie.  Should I help ya off this stool?  Ya need anythin’?  Walkin’ stick?  Them pills what old people take ta get a chub, Oi saw some in a magazine-”  He was promptly and violently punched clean off his stool.


	13. Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat has fun with a bath faucet, doesn't get clean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone called morbidmortician had a real good prompt in the junkrat tag so I ran with it

“You’re fuckin’ filthy.”

“Fuck you, _you’re_ fuckin’ filthy!” Junkrat yelled shrilly as Roadhog physically picked him up and drug him into the disgusting motel bathroom.  He thrashed and swore, but it was like having a fight with a wall.  Junkrat didn’t win and also he was pretty sore now.  “I jus’ wanna go to bed, you fat cunt- oof!”

Roadhog dumped him unceremoniously into the empty tub before kneeling down to fight off every piece of clothing and both his prognostics.  

Effectively trapping him in here like some kind of insect.

“When I come back you better be clean,” Roadhog growled, turning the water on so it sprayed out the faucet and over Junkrat’s foot.  The tub wasn’t that big, honestly, and he was a little scrunched up inside it.  He tittered at the thought of Roadhog even TRYING to sit in this tub.  He’d probably get stuck.

Junkrat was left alone as Roadhog went to do…whatever he did when Junkrat wasn’t climbing all over him.  Sounded boring, whatever it was.  At first he thought about refusing to clean himself out of protest, but the water was warm as it lapped over his foot and tickled his thigh so he thought maybe it wouldn’t be _that_ bad.  Besides, if he didn’t get clean he wouldn’t put it past Hoggy to make him just sleep in this tub tonight.

He lifted his foot to scrub at it, cursing under his breath, only for his skinny ass to slip over the wet floor the tub and send him crashing against the wall, legs spread and hands flailing for something to grab, which ended up being the warm faucet.  Hot water sprayed over his cunt and Junkrat yelped, body jerking at the sudden and unexpected stimulation.  He moved back until the water just sprayed between his legs.

Wait.

That had felt real fuckin’ good.

Slowly, more in control, Junkrat slid back down, laying on his back and lifting his legs against the wall with his hand on the faucet.  “Oh holy dooley,” Junkrat groaned, a goofy grin spreading over his face as water poured over his cunt, like he was getting eaten out by a goddamn geyser.  Water was starting to lap uncomfortably at his ears as it filled the tub so he let go of the faucet to fumble between his spread legs and pull out the plug so the water could drain.

Junkrat groaned, arching his back and bringing his hand down to spread the lips of his cunt, letting that spray of water fall over his clit and down his sensitive folds.  Arousal was starting to coil in his gut, something hotter than the water splashing between his spread legs.  Roadhog always teased him about being on a hair trigger, but Junkrat didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed about how fast he could come.  After all, in the Outback you didn’t exactly have time to sit around rubbing one out all goddamn night.

“Oh fuck, oh yeah, oh _fuck_!”  Junkrat drooled

“Rat? You’d better be-”

Roadhog arrived just in time to watch Junkrat climax with a holler, pleasure pulsing in time with his cunt and washing over his whole body.  It left him lazy and languid over the porcelain, a stupid grin on his face.  He looked up at Hoggy, just as greasy and dirty as he’d been when he’d been tossed in the tub.  “Mate,” Junkrat grinned, pushing himself away from the water before the pleasure could turn into the pain of over stimulation, “never enjoyed a bath so much.”


	14. Night Market

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat enjoys Bejing's Night Market, Roadhog isn't so sure about it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this one awhile ago but kept forgetting to add it here, oops!
> 
> Hey do you like my writing? I take [commissions](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/post/129244375479/commissions), and have a [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Salazar)!

If Junkrat had been hard to keep an eye on in Oz, he was goddamn impossible to follow in China.  Roadhog pushed through people like a knife through hot butter, but Junkrat slunk through them like the rat he was, twisting and turning through the bodies as he cackled and took in the sights.  They towered over most of the people here, which was the only reason Roadhog hadn’t completely lost sight of Rat, his head and torso bobbing through the thick crowd.

Dusk sat heavy upon them, turning the haze golden and making the heat feel thick.  Roadhog was dripping sweat as he shoved people away and ignored vendors trying to coax him over for a sale.  “Junkrat!” he boomed, “get the fuck back here!”

Junkrat looked over his shoulder with a giggle, but he didn’t stop pressing forward, following the flow of the crowd.  Roadhog growled, shoving people left and right as he started to jog.  He was going to wring Rat’s stupid, skinny neck when he caught up with him!  

Thankfully, before Junkrat could disappear completely, he got distracted.  Predictably, he was distracted by one of the food vendors.  Despite having been out of Oz for months, Junkrat still thought like a starving man, he would eat anything and everything without a care.  Roadhog wrinkled his nose at the sight of all the bugs laid out on the vendor’s table.  
  
He’d eaten bugs before, mostly grasshoppers after they’d been cooked and seasoned, but Roadhog had never developed a taste for bugs.  Junkrat, on the other hand, looked ecstatic.  
  
“Scorpions!” he said, tugging on Roadhog’s arm and pointing to the giant black bugs impaled on sticks like spiky lollipops, “Ooo, wazzat?” he asked, pointing to cocoons stuffed onto sticks like nasty kabobs.

“Silkworm cocoons,” said the vendor with a bob of his head, “would you like to buy?  Best in the whole market!”

“Yeah!” said Junkrat, grabbing a little bit of everything and elbowing Roadhog, “Pay th’ man, Roadie! Dinner is served!”

“Uhg…” Roadhog groaned as he passed over some cash, “you don’t have to eat bugs anymore, Junkrat, we could buy literally anything else now.”

Junkrat had already devoured the scorpion, tossing the stick into the crowd as he crunched it down.  He handed another one to Roadhog with smile flaked with scorpion bits, which made Roadhog feel a bit queezy.  “‘S good!” he said, the same thing he’d said when eating a kitchen sponge, “try it!”

While Junkrat popped cocoons into his mouth, Roadhog pushed up his mask enough to free his mouth and stuffed the entire scorpion into his mouth.  It tasted like buttered popcorn, weirdly enough.  Yeah, it wasn’t bad.  Certainly not the worst thing Junkrat had probably eaten, and better than the under-seasoned grasshoppers Roadhog had eaten back in Oz.

He still turned down the silkworms and centipedes though.


	15. Rough Spanking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junnkrat gets a rough spanking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My tumblr](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/), [my patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Salazar), [my commission post](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/post/129244375479/commissions)! :)

Junkrat liked it rough.

Really rough.

He never could figure out how to ask for it; Roadie was a pretty rough bloke to begin with, and Junkrat had found just pushing a few of his buttons could get him what he wanted without having to say words n’ shit. The downside was that when Roadhog was mad, he wasn’t thinking about Junkrat’s pleasure, just his own, and more often than not Junkrat would be left jerking his cock on the floor, metal fingers pressing into the fresh bruises littering his body, while Roadie’s come leaked copiously onto the floor between his spread thighs.

Junkrat wanted it rough, but he also wanted the fat fuck to help him out once in a while. What did a guy have to do to get a blowie around here?

“Roadie!” Junkrat limped over to where Roadhog was sitting on the sagging couch in their current hideout, reading a battered old paperback that looked like a toy in his massive hands. Whenever he wanted to turn a page he’d have to ever so delicately pinch the corner of the paper. Roadhog was capable of being gentle, when it called for it.

“Roadie!” Junkrat called again when he was ignored.

“What?” Roadhog growled, not lifting his piggy snout out of his book.

“I wanna…” Junkrat huffed and rubbed his chin, picking at a healing burn there from a firecracker he’d fired into his face a week ago. The words sat heavy on his tongue, but instead of falling right out, they clung and made his entire mouth heavy. Why was it so hard to ask for something?

“Rat…” that was the warning growl.

Junkrat could push him and get roughed up, but then he wouldn’t get what he really wanted, which was for Roadhog to rough him up AND get him off. “I wantcha ta… rough me up,” said Junkrat, a bit weakly.

Roadhog stared at him with that blank mask, completely unreadable. Junkrat squirmed, starting to feel defensive, if Roadhog didn’t say something soon he was going to start pushing buttons. Finally, Roadie sighed and slipped a bookmark between the pages of whatever he was reading, setting it aside, “Fine,” he grunted, “Strip and get over here.”

Junkrat beamed, his shorts were pooling on the floor in less than a second.

“At least you’re learning to ask,” Roadhog grunted, grabbing Junkrat around the waist and hauling him over his lap.

“Well I- YOWCH!” Junkrat yelped as Roadhog slapped him on the ass.

“Shut the fuck up, I don’t want to hear another word from you!”

Junkrat melted with a little giggle, he liked that voice, the rough, commanding tone that said ‘shut up or you’ll regret it’. “Mate-” Roadhog spanked him and Junkrat whimpered, his words dying on his tongue.  Roadie was the only one that could have that effect on him.

After that the slaps came hard and fast, giving Junkrat no time to collect his thoughts, he could only wail and gasp.  His ass stung with each spank of Roadhog’s massive ham-hand, leaving behind red welts that would soon turn to aching bruises.  Junkrat sobbed, his cock rubbing along Roadhog’s thighs as he was jerked over his lap with each merciless spank.

“Roadiiiiemmph!” Junkrat squealed and was quickly muffled by a pair of fingers stuffed into his mouth.  As if to punish him for being loud, Roadhog spanked him harder, hard enough that Junkrat knew he’d have vibrant bruises which would make it almost impossible for him to sit down later.

All at once, the slaps stopped, leaving Junkrat sobbing and shaking over Roadhog’s lap, tears and snot dripping thickly down his flushed face.  Roadhog’s fingers slipped free from his mouth so Junkrat could wail, fingers digging into the couch cushions.

“R-Roadie!” he sobbed wetly, choking on his own spit, “P-please! Please! Please!”

Roadhog huffed, and gentle fingers, still wet with his spit, tangled in his hair and scratched at his scalp, “Shut up.  Shhh.”

Junkrat couldn’t stop crying, but he tried to quiet down, sobs slowly turning to hiccups and wet sniffs.  Fingers slick with lube prodded his asshole and pushed inside.  Roadhog didn’t tease him, he rubbed his prostate as he combed through his patchy hair.  Junkrat whimpered as he came, whole body going limp over Roadhog’s lap.

His mind…was silent.  He didn’t want to move, didn’t think he could.  Junkrat drooled and hiccuped, chest hitching with muffled sobs of pain.  Roadhog pulled his fingers free from his ass and lifted him up to cradle him in his arms as he picked his book back up.

“Yer th’ best, Roadie,” Junkrat slurred, drooling on his shoulder as he nuzzled against him.

“Quiet,” Roadhog murmured, snout back in his book.

Junkrat, for once, obeyed.


	16. Morning kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early morning is Junkrat's favorite time of day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My tumblr](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/), [my patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Salazar), [my commission post](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/post/129244375479/commissions)! :)

The heat hadn’t quite started to fill their hideout, it was still too early in the morning for it to fill their lungs and make them sticky with sweat.  For now, Roadie’s skin was dry under his fingertips, his coarse chest hair almost gritty under between his fingers.  They were both coated in dirt, this hideout was in the middle of the desert and water wasn’t to be wasted.  

This early in the morning, when the air was still pleasant, was Junkrat’s favorite time of day.  Roadhog was too tired to snarl or growl, and Junkrat could easily push his mask up and kiss his thick lips.  Roadhog rumbled like an idling engine, lips parting lazily for him, letting Junkrat slip his tongue past them to deepen the kiss.

A massive hand came up to rub up and down his back, where a little later it might have peeled him off like a tick.  Junkrat smiled a little wickedly against Roadhog’s lips, licking the snout of his mask, “Good morning, Hoggy m’ Hog.”

Roadhog grunted, fingers tangling in Junkrat’s messy hair to gently, _gently_ , pull him into more kisses.

Good morning indeed.


	17. Fingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat gets his mouth stuffed with Roadhog's fingers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My tumblr](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/), [my patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Salazar), [my commission post](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/post/129244375479/commissions)! :)

“Better be real quiet, Rat.”

Junkrat shivered, he couldn’t make noise even if he wanted to. Roadhog had cornered him down an alley, just beyond was a bustling street, the only thing stopping them from being seen were people not willing, or not interested, in turning their heads to look. Otherwise they were out in the open, one of Roadhog’s massive hands grinding against his crotch through his shorts, while the other had Junkrat’s mouth stuffed with two fat fingers.

“Dirty,” Roadhog snarled against his ear, “complete filth, bet I could root you right here and now among the garbage and you wouldn’t care.”

Junkrat drooled profusely around the fingers in his mouth, his whimpers muffled nearly to silence. Pleasure was building in his gut, and a damp patch was forming on his shorts just under Roadie’s rubbing hand. He choked a little as the fingers pushed in further, gagging and struggling as they briefly cut off his air before pulling back until just the pads rested on his tongue.

He sucked on them like they were Roadhog’s fat cock, which he could feel grinding against his clothed ass. Roadhog’s breathing was short and sharp, a dangerous growl followed by a wheezing, snarling laugh. Junkrat whined, trying to roll his hips into Roadhog’s touch, but he was pinned too tightly by his grip to do more than take what he was given.

The fingers shoved their way back down his throat again and Junkrat gagged and shuddered, thick ropes of drool dripping down his chin to smear over his chest and Roadhog’s fist. Junkrat couldn’t even make a single sound as he came, shivering like a leaf as Roadhog rubbed him through it.

The fingers pulled out slowly and Junkrat took in massive, heaving breaths of air, coughing and choking as he inhaled a bunch of his own spit. He could hear Roadhog grunting behind him, the slick sounds of him jerking his cock audible even to Junkrat’s bad ears. Hot come sprayed over his naked back while he was bent over, spitting and coughing.

“D-Drongo,” Junkrat panted, wiping his lips with the back of his arm. His shorts were wet and sticky, and starting to grow stiff.

Roadhog laughed, his zipper and belt clinking as he put himself away. With a big hand, still wet with come and spit, he grabbed Junkrat and shoved him forward, forcing him into public with spunk still dripping down his back.

Junkrat grinned a feral grin, sharp teeth bared aggressively as he dared any of these suits to say anything. They never did, and Junkrat was ready for round two by the time the come was dry and flaking off his skin, the hotel door shut behind them with a snap.


	18. Ease Into It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roadhog helps Junkrat take his cock for the first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My tumblr](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/), [my patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Salazar), [my commission post](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/post/129244375479/commissions)! :)

“Holy dooley.”

Junkrat whistled a bit nervously as Roadhog opened his fly, his cock springing out.  Junkrat had seen him soft, but this was the first time he’d seen that big dick rock hard, massive and almost threatening as it curved under the swell of Hog’s belly.

“We don’t have to do this, Rat,” Hog rumbled, curling his hand around his cock to give it a slow stroke.  Junkrat watch, entranced and intimidated, as a swell of precum glittered at the head before Roadhog’s fingers spread it over his skin with a lazy stroke.

“Nah, I want ta!” said Junkrat defensively, “I mean… slow-like.  Ya know.  Or yer cock is gonna rip me clean in two.”

Roadhog snorted, moving forward to put one knee on the edge of the bed, the musty old thing dipping under his weight and squealing in ignored protest.  “Oh, don’t worry, Rat, we’re gonna go _real_ slow.”

Which just raised a new worry for Junkrat to chew his lip bloody over, “Not too slow! I don’t wanna die of old age down here!”

“I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that,” said Roadhog, grabbing Junkrat by the ankle and yanking so he flopped onto his back with a yelp.  “Now relax, I’ll take care of you.”

Between Roadie’s tongue and fingers, by the time his cock slid home Junkrat was so blissed out of his mind he’d forgotten what he was supposed to be apprehensive about.  Which, he mused, fucked-out and leaking Roadhog’s come as the big lug snored beside him, was probably the point.


	19. Protected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roadhog puts his life on the line to protect Junkrat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My tumblr](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/), [my patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Salazar), [my commission post](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/post/129244375479/commissions)! :)

Junkrat practically kicked down the door to the safehouse, and would have knocked himself onto his own ass if Roadhog, the fatass, hadn’t been standing right behind him.  He bounced off his belly and got his feet, stomping furiously inside to chuck his bag on the sagging couch, and his grenade launcher on the work bench.  
  
“You stupid cunt! You stupid fat cunt!” Junkrat screeched, turning on Roadhog to jab a finger at him.

“Too loud,” Roadhog wheezed.  He was covered in blood, and unusually, most of it was his.  Blood dripped out from under the edge of his mask and ran down the rolls of his short neck.  It smeared over his belly, his tits, and soaked his pants.  He’d lost so much blood that even now he was swaying on his feet.  He walked to the couch and slapped Junkrat’s bag off to collapse onto it with a shuddering breath that ended in a wet, sloppy cough.  There was blood in his lungs, he was coughing it out.

“TOO LOUD?!” Junkrat screamed, clenching his fists in his patchy hair, tearing out a few new strands, “WASN’T FUCKIN’ LOUD ENOUGH BACK THERE, WERE I? TOLD YA NOT TA, DIDN’T I? NOW LOOK AT YA! YA ALMOST…” Junkrat choked with a keen, “almost died, didn’t ya?!”  His voice was a strained whisper at the last part, saying it too loud would be to invite Death in, and Junkrat felt like he was hovering just outside their door as it was.

“Shut up,” Roadhog panted.  Another wet cough, more blood dripping out from under the mask.

“Ya shouldn’t o’ done it!” Junkrat said, pacing along his workbench, “I coulda taken th’ guy! If I hadn’t of had that extra canister ya…ya…” he squeaked and fell silent.  Say it twice and Death arrives.

Roadhog reached up to rip off the mask, and Junkrat could finally see the pain in his eyes, along with the usual irritation.  “It’s what you pay me for,” he said hoarsely, and Roadhog coughed and Junkrat watched with horror as blood sprayed out from between his thick lips.

“Well, yeah!” said Junkrat, walking closer to the couch, reaching out to lightly touch Roadhog’s bloody shoulder, just to assure himself that his skin was warm and he still had enough blood to pump.  “That don’t mean I want ya ta…” he cleared his throat and punched Roadhog in the back with a scowl, “Don’t mean ya get ta throw yer idiot life away, ya drongo! Who’ll save me hide if yer six feet under! An’ six feet across.”

“Enough!” Roadhog turned around surprisingly fast, grabbing Junkrat by the wrist of his metal arm before he could jerk back.  With a yelp he was hauled roughly over the back of the couch and pinned in Roadhog’s lap, blood smearing along his back as that big hand moved to his neck and squeezed until he couldn’t talk, and could barely breathe.

“Now you listen ta me, Rat,” Roadhog snarled, and some of his blood dripped on Junkrat’s cheek as he bent down to get in his face, “You pay me ta protect you.  That’s what I did.  It’s dangerous.  I know that, you know that.  If you can’t handle that then get the _fuck_ out of the business, you stupid cunt!”

Junkrat teared up, and his throat felt tight from more than Roadhog’s squeezing fist, “Mate…” he wheezed out painfully.

“I protected you today,” said Roadhog gruffly, grip loosening a little, “and I will do it again.”

“Ya almost died,” Junkrat whispered, his tears cutting tracks along his dirty face.

Roadhog heaved a great sigh, sitting back against the couch and moving his hand to splay over Junkrat’s dirty chest, “enough, Rat.  Enough.  I’m fine.”  His tone was gentle, even if his voice was like crushed gravel.

Junkrat nuzzled against Hoggy’s thigh, uncaring of the blood.  It may be his blood, but he was alive to bleed more, and Junkrat supposed at the end of the day that was all that mattered.  Next time…next time he wouldn’t leave anyone alive enough to hurt Roadhog.


	20. Nipple Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat and Roadhog fuck while a camera watches them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My tumblr](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/), [my patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Salazar), [my commission post](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/post/129244375479/commissions)! :)

The security camera was an unblinking eye above them, the little red light shining brightly in the darkness. Junkrat could barely catch his breath, having a staring contest with that little red light as he was fucked over a counter in the vault. He wondered if it was monitored 24/7, if some suit was watching him get railed by the huffing, snarling, pig-masked man behind him.

Junkrat wheezed and scrambled over the counter as Hog gave a particularly punishing thrust, “Oy, ya fuckin’ cunt!” He groaned, “turn me over!”

He didn’t want to look at the camera anymore, dammit! Roadhog pulled out, leaving Junkrat gaping and twitching before he was flipped onto his back, Hoggy’s massive hands holding him by the hips as he thrust back in with a wet, sloppy sound.

“That’s more like it,” Junkrat panted, drool sliding down his cheek as he cackled breathlessly.  Roadhog was like a root machine, his hips kept the same ruthless rhythm they had at the start, and they’d fuck Junkrat sloppy until he came.  Now, instead of watching the camera, Junkrat’s eyes were caught by the glint of Roadie’s fat nipple piercings.  Oh how he loved those things, the tarnished silver bouncing against Roadhog’s chest as he growled over him.

“I bet yer gonna come soon, aren’tcha?” Junkrat grinned, reaching up to tug at the piercings.  To his delight, Roadhog snarled like an animal, hips stuttering a little.  “Oh yeah, love gettin’ yer tits tugged, don’tcha, ya fat slut.”

“If you don’t shut up I’m gonna gag you,” Roadhog growled.

“Lift me up an’ I’ll find somethin’ better ta do with my mouth!” Junkrat taunted in reply.

Roadhog slipped one hand under his back, and Junkrat was lifted up so his could press his face against Roadhog’s sweaty chest, as Hog used him like a cock sleeve, lifting him up and down over his erection with the barest of effort.  Junkrat giggled, tongue lapping up some sweat on Roadhog’s skin, before he closed his lips around one of the rings, sucking hard at Roadie’s nipple and piercing.  The tang of metal and sweat was sharp on his tongue, and Junkrat sucked a little harder, teeth clacking over the metal as Roadhog’s arms trembled around him.

His flesh hand played with Roadie’s other nipple, tugging and twisting at the nipple and piercing.  Junkrat loved Roadie’s wheezing sounds of pleasure, and smugly thought that the camera could never capture that, it was only for him.  Whatever perverted wanker watched them root could see it, but they’d never hear all the sloppy sounds, the wheezing, the gasping, Junkrat’s shrill laughter.  
  
He bit down on Roadhog’s piercing with a clink, and tugged roughly.  The arms around him tightened and Roadie fucked him harder, panting hoarsely from behind his mask, sweat dripping down his neck and chest, only for Junkrat to greedily lick it up.  Roadhog came silently, holding Junkrat down on his cock as he gasped for breath, his hot come slipping out to run down Junkrat’s trembling thighs.

“Oh fuck, Roadie,” Junkrat whimpered, voice muffled around the piercing in his mouth, “get me off, come on, I’m so fuckin’ close!”

Roadhog lifted him off his cock, and all that fresh come spilled out of his gaping asshole to pool on the floor, and then drip down Roadie’s big belly as he was picked up and set on the swell, hands still on his hips to hold him in place.  Junkrat cackled, delighted, as he pushed the mask up by the snout, freeing those thick lips and broad tongue.  

“Yeahhh…” Junkrat groaned, “that’s it, pig-face!”  Junkrat arched over Roadhog’s head, fingers digging into his white hair, messing it up and nearly pulling it out of its tie.  He whined loudly as Roadhog slurped around him, his mouth a tight sheathe around his hard cock.  Junkrat came with a wail, and Roadie, good ol’ Roadie, swallowed him down, not letting a single drop of his spunk escape.

“Oh… oh…” Junkrat giggled, arching backwards to look at the camera upside down.

Roadhog popped off his cock, kissing the inside of his thigh, “should probably go, Rat.”

Junkrat grinned at the camera, giving it a saucy wink, “Yeah, cheers, let’s blow this joint.”


	21. Malnutrition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat gets healthy, it has unforeseen consequences he doesn't like

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My tumblr](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/), [my patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Salazar), [my commission post](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/post/129244375479/commissions)! :)

It had been Junkrat’s idea to join Overwatch, and Roadhog hadn’t really objected too hard.  They’d protect them from their warrants, under the stipulation that they don’t get any new ones.  Constant food and shelter seemed good to Roadhog.  Junkrat was more interested in getting paid to blow things up.  When they were first dropped off they were ushered to the infirmary, where the German woman they called Mercy looked them over.

“May I… see under the mask?” she asked politely.

Roadhog growled.

“Very well,” she said primly, “but should you change your mind, I’m here.  Now… Jamison, let’s look you over.”

“Sheila, I am in perfect health!” said Junkrat, with his usual lack of self awareness.  Roadhog snorted, leaning against the wall.  He looked like he’d been dead for a week and just crawled out of his poorly-dug grave.

“Well…we’ll just make sure, won’t we?” said Mercy, holding up her stethoscope.

There was a predictable amount of tsking and humming and frowning.  Junkrat went from confident to nervous, when Mercy didn’t immediately tell him he was ‘one fine specimen.’  “Wot’s wrong?” he asked, chewing on the pad of his thumb as he slouched over her while her fingers danced along the stark form of his ribs.

“Mr. Fawkes, you are severely malnourished,” said Mercy, “which I suspected just by looking at you, but my examination reveals problems beyond just being too skinny.  Not to mention carrying that tire of yours is giving you a curved spine!  You need to improve your posture!”

Junkrat sputtered, and Roadhog laughed at the look of horror on his face, “I…I ain’t…ain’t nothin’ wrong with me, shelia!”

“Alright, Mr. Fawkes,” said Mercy curtly, “well I’m going to be putting you on a very strict diet, no arguments allowed.  Overwatch needs its agents at their best.”

No amount of Junkrat’s arguing changed her mind.  She handed Roadhog a bottle of multivitamins, “Make sure he takes one of these a day.”

Roadhog grunted as Junkrat whined like a goddamn dog, tucking the bottle into his pants.  Junkrat had never taken a pill in his goddamn life, and he wasn’t looking forward to force-feeding him these horse pills.

Junkrat’s diet was high in calories, but they weren’t empty calories, Mercy made sure he got everything he needed to maintain his existing muscles, and made him wear a brace for his back, which he complained about so goddamn much that she finally threw her hands up and gave up on his wretched posture. Nightly, Roadhog pinned Junkrat down and stuffed a pill down his throat, rubbing his neck so he was forced to swallow it, instead of spitting it back into his face.

At first it didn’t seem to do much, but then Roadhog noticed how Junkrat’s belly filled out a little, some meat settled on his ribs, and, astoundingly, his hair began growing in a different color.  At first they didn’t notice, because Junkrat’s hair was always so greasy and full of soot that it was hard to tell what color it was supposed to be anyway.  Then one evening Junkrat squealed from the bathroom, followed by swearing.  Roadhog growled under his breath, pushing himself up and lumbering into the bathroom to see Junkrat sitting naked before the full length mirror with his hands clenched in his hair.

“I swear I washed it!” Junkrat snarled, looking at his roots, which were indeed darker than the white-blond above it, “Fuckin’ shampoo is shit, I told ya ta get th’ other stuff, Roadie!”

Roadhog crouched down with a grunt, grabbing a chunk of Junkrat’s hair to get a look at it, “It’s not dirty,” he said lowly, “that’s your natural hair color.”

Junkrat looked at him like he was stupid, “No it ain’t, ya drongo! Ya known be fer years, when I ever had this color?”

“Then keep trying to wash it out,” said Roadhog, standing up, but not before giving Junkrat a gentle slap against the side of his head, “see what happens.”

Junkrat did, indeed, crawl back into the tub.

About an hour later he crawled out of the bathroom, looking appropriately like a drowned rat.  “What’s goin’ on with me?” he asked, getting on the bed and flopping down with a look of disbelief on his face.

Roadhog looked up from his book, “You’re getting healthy,” he said, taking some small pity on him.

Junkrat hummed, lips pursed.

“We can dye it back,” said Roadhog.

Junkrat rolled onto his belly with a sudden smile, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Roadhog, “if it’ll get you to shut up about it.”

Junkrat beamed at him, “Oh, yeah, cheers!”

And if Roadhog was pleased to see Junkrat’s eyes bright with new health, he didn’t say anything.


	22. Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat forgets things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew ok I'm done. I need to remember to update this collection AS I write drabbles on tumblr... not... like this... anyway, I take requests and commissions! Talk to me about roadrat, or whatever!
> 
> [My tumblr](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/), [my patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Salazar), [my commission post](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/post/129244375479/commissions)! :)

Roadhog had come to terms with the fact that being Junkrat’s bodyguard was really more of a babysitting duty than it was a bodyguard-ing duty.  The kid had survived two goddamn years without him, and that honestly shocked Roadhog.  He wasn’t stupid, but he wasn’t all there either.  Sometimes Junkrat would just…go away…for a few seconds, face blanking out as he left whatever reality they were in for some small flash, only to return without memory of the last couple hours, or minutes, or days, or seconds or who fuckin’ knew. 

It kept Roadhog on his toes to say the least.

It didn’t happen that often, and thus far they’d been lucky (if one could call it that) that Junkrat had his episodes in the middle of fire fights where his first instinct was always to blow something up, which is what he had already been doing anyway.

Roadhog couldn’t pinpoint what caused the episodes, if anything, so all he could do was look out for them and point Junkrat in the right direction whenever they occurred.  Perhaps it was the radiation he’d grown up with, or the serial malnourishment, or maybe constantly falling on his head or getting caught in explosions.  Most likely it was combination of all four.  Junkrat’s brain had been rattled around in his thick skull more than a gambler’s dice inside a cup.

“Phoaw, fancy livin’ ain’t this?” Junkrat cackled as they threw their bags of freshly stolen cash on the hotel room floor.  Rat threw himself onto the bed with a bounce, scrambling for the remote to turn the TV onto the highest volume.

“Uhg, you’re disgusting,” Roadhog growled, walking over to grab Junkrat by the front of his harness and haul him off the sheets, already smeared with ash and dirt, “shower first, then TV.”

“Ya know fer a man with a pig mask yer awfully persni-persnik- an uptight cunt!” Junkrat complained as he trudged to the bathroom, peg leg clacking over the tile.

Roadhog grunted, trying to brush the worst of Rat’s mess off the comforter.  They had to share this fuckin’ bed, and Roadhog didn’t want to be beholden to Junkrat’s complete lack of hygiene if he didn’t have to be.  He could hear the shower starting, and under that the muffled sounds of Rat’s limbs being chucked unceremoniously onto the floor.  When they’d first started their jaunt together, Roadhog had wondered if Junkrat would need help with these kinds of things, but had gotten cursed out for offering to help.

Fair enough, Rat got along fine enough without the limbs, he was a man that skittered pretty fast on two limbs.  It had scared the piss out of Roadhog once or twice in the beginning, seeing Junkrat pop out like some kind of centipede in the dark.

Junkrat couldn’t stand in the shower, but he was always pretty content with just sitting there on the floor and letting the water wash over him.  Roadhog would have to pin him down if he wanted to scrub all his nasty nooks and crannies, but he didn’t feel up to that fight right now.  Just getting him rinsed off was good enough for Hog.

With the comforter mostly cleaned off, Roadhog sat down and turned the TV down to a reasonable volume and set it to a nature documentary while he could.  As soon as Junkrat got out here it would either be the 25/7 Explosions Channel, or the Home Shopping Network, and Roadhog wasn’t particularly fond of either.

Speaking of Junkrat, he should be out by now.

“Rat?” Roadhog called, though he doubted Junkrat would hear him over the spray of the shower.  Dumb son of a bitch couldn’t hear shit half the time unless you were screaming it.  Roadhog grumbled and pushed himself up, lumbering into the bathroom.  Rat’s limbs were still on the floor, but he couldn’t hear the tell-tale sounds of him splashing in the water or muttering to himself, nor could he see his silhouette in the shower curtain.

“Junkrat?” Roadhog asked again, stepping over Rat’s limbs carefully before sliding the shower curtain aside.  

Junkrat was curled up on the bottom of the shower, arms wrapped over his head, leg curled up tightly against his body as if he was trying to compact his long lanky form into the smallest space possible.  Tremors wracked his body, and he seemed completely unaware of Roadhog standing right over him.  Well fuck.  He turned off the water and Junkrat jerked, if anything curling up tighter with the sound of skin squealing over wet porcelain.

“Quit messin’ around,” Roadhog grunted, bending down to shake Junkrat lightly, “C’m-”

“Roadie!” Junkrat gasped and rolled over so fast that Roadhog nearly jerked back, but Junkrat had his arms wrapped tightly around his forearm, eyes desperate and wild as he looked up at him from between his sopping hair, “Oh fuck mate, they got ya too?! Oh fuck oh shit- fuckin’ cunts-!”

“What are you on about,” Roadhog growled, trying and failing to shake Junkrat off of him.

To his intense discomfort, Junkrat teared up, “Mate we was robbin’ that bank an’ when I woke up I were stripped down, they’d taken me limbs, an you was gone!”

Oh for fucksake… Roadhog sighed through his mask, sitting down on the edge of the tub and twisting to haul the naked and dripping wet Junkrat into his arms, “Did you even check outside the goddamn shower?  Look, your limbs are right there, I’m here.  You’re fine.  We didn’t get captured we got away and we’re laying low in this hotel.”

“But…” said Junkrat weakly, eyes focused on his limbs, brow furrowed as he chewed at his bottom lip, “but I… I don’t remember that.”

“Do you trust me?” Roadhog asked after a moment of silence. 

“Yeah, with me life, mate,” said Junkrat without hesitation, which, against Roadhog’s better judgement, he found touching.

“Then maybe… trust me to remember what you don’t.”

Junkrat rubbed his face against Roadhog’s naked chest, eyes squeezed shut with thought.  He pulled back, pushing his hair back with his one hand, “Er, yeah.  Yeah, mate.  ‘Course.”  Junkrat beamed at him and Roadhog refused to be charmed.

Well, he was a _little_ charmed.


	23. Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat loves the size and smell of Roadhog

Roadhog never took off the damn mask. He sweat in it, he bled in it, he coughed in it, he laughed in it, and on one particularly bad day, he even threw up in it. Junkrat started with a fasination of the gas mask, he'd never seen anything like it before, so perfectly sculpted to make Roadhog look like a faceless killer. The more he thought about it the more obsessed he became, and that only worsened when they started to root.

Junkrat loved the taste of the leather under his tongue as Roadhog bounced him on his massive cock, biting at the snout, tonguing the stitches until the whole thing was dripping and shining with his spit. Sometimes Roadhog would blindfold him, and hands the size of dinner plates would close around his hips as a broad tongue lapped at his asshole while the mask nuzzled at the back of his balls like a pig hunting for truffles. It made him laugh so hard that Roadhog had to bite him just to get him to stop.

He wondered, constantly, what it smelled like under there. Junkrat pawed at it sometimes, trying to see if Roadhog would take it off, but he always got shoved away at the first hint of his fingers tugging at the ties. Not only that, but any further attempts would end the night for good and leave him with blue balls. So Junkrat didn't paw very often. He just stared; and wondered, and wished.

“Yer such a big boy,” Junkrat panted as Roadhog had him down on his knees, massive cock jutting proudly out from between his thick thighs. Junkrat leaned in to lap at his balls, the right one hanging just a little lower than left, both of them big enough to fill his mouth. Junkrat sucked on one as his fingers worked to close all the way around the shaft of Hoggy's cock, stroking him lazily. He smelled goddamn good down here, sweat and musk and just...filth. Junkrat took a deep breath and cackled, getting his hair pulled in response.

“Rat,” Roadhog growled.

“Yeah yeah,” Junkrat grinned, glancing up only to see the massive curve of Hog's belly, “Let me take real good care of ya, Big Guy.”

Junkrat sat up a little on his knees to wrap his lips around the head of Mako's cock, tasting bitter precum on his tongue before he eagerly swallowed it down. He could never get enough of this cock, it was a fuckin' monster, heavy on his tongue and hard on his poor, aching jaw. The first time he'd tried this he'd nearly thrown up trying to take more than the head, but practice saw him easily sliding down the shaft until his throat nearly bulged with Hog's dick.

“Good,” Roadhog grunted, the closest he ever got to outright praise. It still made Junkrat grin like a complete prat as he pulled back for a breath, drool dripping copiously down his chin as he stroked Hog's slippery cock.

“Gonna come down me throat, right, Hog?” Junkrat said, voice already a little hoarse.

“Where else?”

Junkrat beamed and went back to work, bobbing his head up and down the shaft, eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head whenever he got his nose pressed up against Hog's belly. This was it's own kind of heaven, it Rat's opinion, just sucking the biggest fuckin' cock on the planet while the big guy it belonged to kept a harsh grip on his patchy hair. He snuck his prosthetic hand between his legs to squeeze his own cock, but Roadhog growled and jerked his head back, back back back until Junkrat was arched back painfully, whimpering and looking up into Roadhog's expressionlessly piggy mask, staring down at him from what felt like 100 yards away.

“No touching,” he ordered.

“Y-yeah, sure, mate,” Junkrat stuttered, voice thick with spit.

“Got somethin' real special planned for you,” Roadhog continued lowly, “if you're good enough to earn it.”

Roadhog might as well have promised him a mountain of pure gold. The second he was released Junkrat sprang back and sucked Hoggy's cock like it was a contest. Both his hands squeezed Hog's thighs, his flesh hand wandered up further to grab at his ass and encourage him to thrust forward, a suggestion Hog took to heart as he grabbed Junkrat by the head and pounded down his throat.

Junkrat relaxed into it, nearly blissed out of his mind as he sagged against Hoggy, his big, strong Hoggy, and just let it all happen. His own cock throbbed and leaked, if Junkrat hadn't made a conscious effort not to, he might have come already just from this alone. Roadhog thrust forward one last time then groaned loudly as he spilled copiously down Junkrat's throat, pulling back at the last second so some of it splashed over his chin and down his chest.

“Messy pig,” Junkrat giggled weakly before collapsing bonelessly onto his back, grinning inanely up at Hog.

“Pretty good, Junkrat,” Roadhog said, his voice breathless behind the mask. Junkrat could see a sheen of sweat all over his skin, and got the urge to get up and start licking it all off, maybe suck those fat nipples a little. He liked the feeling of his teeth clacking against the massive rings. Before he could follow his instincts, Roadhog was kneeling down on top of him, pinning him effortlessly in place.

“Gonna let me root ya?” Junkrat asked with a crooked grin, thrusting up as best he could while Hog's weight was gently pressing him down. He could see how taut the muscles in his thighs were as he hovered slightly. Junkrat tittered and squirmed as Roadhog's hand splayed over his chest, reaching up to grip one sausage finger and scratch at his knuckles.

“Close your eyes,” Roadhog ordered.

Junkrat did as he was told, eyes squeezing shut so Roadhog couldn't possibly think he was peeking and end this before he got to come. With his shitty hearing, Junkrat couldn't tell what was going on... until something warm settled over his face and his eyes snapped open in shock. Roadhog had placed his mask over Rat's face, and the eyeholes were in the wrong place to let him see anything but a sliver of ceiling out either eye. Mostly it was dark, the lenses of the mask were tinted. Was this how Roadhog saw all the time?

Next he took a deep breath, and if he thought Hog's cock smelled good... well this was even better. Junkrat whimpered as his sense of smell was assaulted with so much at once. It was sweat and old leather, a bitter lingering smell of hogdrogen, the tang of blood. It all mixed together into something that screamed ROADHOG. Junkrat took another deep breath and felt Hog shift over him, keeping him in still as he held the mask in place. This was intoxicating, it was his own personal drug. Junkrat felt Hog pinch one of his nipples and yelped, hips arching up to grind his cock against the cleft of Roadhog's ass.

“Holy dooley,” Junkrat babbled, “f-fuck ya drongo y- oh fuck ohhh-” His orgasm rushed up on him without warning, and he was spilling down his own shaft and Roadhog's ass, cock jerking with each fresh pulse of seed as pleasure washed through him. Junkrat was shuddering when the mask was lifted up, a big hand covering his eyes so he couldn't see anything while Roadhog clasped it back on.

“You're such a pervert, Rat,” Roadhog rumbled, sitting up on his knees and scooping a boneless, giggling Junkrat into his arms.

“Ah, fuck ya, ya fat cunt,” said Junkrat fondly, wrapping his arms around Roadhog's neck to lean in and kiss the snout of his mask.

 


	24. The Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharkbait ends up on an island, it seems deserted. It isn't.

The ocean was unpredictable at the best of times, and at the worst of times she'd swallow you down and spit you back up. Mako found himself swallowed down during the storm, plucked off the deck of his own ship like a child plucks grass, and swallowed whole into her belly where he was tossed and turned through the currents. A lesser man might have died, rocked and tumbled about the massive waves, constantly pushed under then popped back up, but he wasn't a lesser man; and 3 hours later he was crawling up onto the beach, ripping his mask off to cough out a lungful of sea water.

The clouds were still dark and angry above him, clearly he'd done something to piss off Mother Nature, but he didn't have time to think on all his latest transgressions to narrow down what that was. Feeling like a real sorry sack of whale shit, he dragged himself up the rocky beach and away from the waves and their greedy fingers, eager to drag him to the depths. The island had to be tiny, from what Mako could tell when he sat on a high rocky outcropping to get a feel for his location. There were trees, but from his place he could see that this side of the island was less than a mile long, at that. He could see several sea caves dotting the coast, no doubt wide open during low tide, and death traps during high tide.

So he walked further inland, zigzagging through the trees hoping for freshwater, though his mask could be modified to filter sea water, or food. The place was completely uninhabited, and he didn't even find any wildlife which meant if he wanted food he'd have to wait for this storm to pass and go fish for it. He did, however, find a cave; and signs of past habitation.

The cave wasn't very big, barely high enough for him to stand in, and no more than four large strides in length, and perhaps five in width. In the middle of the packed dirt floor was charcoal from a very old fire, in the very back a moldy old fishing net that disintegrated at Mako's touch, much to his annoyance, and bizarre artwork on the walls that looked like writing in a language Mako couldn't understand. More sigils than letters, but nothing like any writing he'd ever seen before, and Mako had sailed the globe.

It kind of gave him the creeps, but he went out to gather wet wood and see about getting it to light for the night. Mako got the feeling there were more than a few corpses on this island, if it was as barren as it appeared. No doubt some sad sailor went completely mad in this cave years and years ago. Mako managed to get a fire started, thought about staying awake, and just passed the fuck out instead.

He woke up to... rustling. That was the only way to describe it, like wheat being blown around in a big empty field, like tree branches brushing a window. Then... breathing. Mako opened his eyes, but didn't change his breathing, his mask would hide that he was awake. There was definitely something in here with him, he could hear it breathing clearly now, in and out in and out, making clicking sounds now and again like a man faced with a vexing problem.

It was getting closer, and from the corner of his eye, through the tinted lens of his mask, Mako could make out a humanoid figure in the darkness, barely illuminated by the coals of his guttering fire. A hand reached out to him, hovering- Mako sat up and grabbed the thing by the wrist, ignoring its ear-piercing screams to wrestle it into the dirt and pin it there. It was too dark to make out anything specific, but it felt like a man, though perhaps one wearing an odd mask. Mako could feel... hay...? poking at him as he held the squirming, screeching thing down.

Whatever, or whoever, it was, it didn't seem eager to fight him or injure him so Mako sat back and let it scramble up. It hobbled out of the cave in a furious rustle, it sounded like it had one fake leg and the joint squeaked as it ran into the woods.

Mako banked his fire back up and didn't go to sleep again.

When daybreak barely illuminated his little cave he hesitantly wandered out, seeing uneven tracks in the dirt that told him last night hadn't just been a strange dream. Something was living on this island with him. Mako tried not to dwell on it, or search it out, honestly he wasn't as paranoid as your average sailor but he didn't go searching for monsters either. If the thing left him alone, he'd leave _it_ alone. So he fished up some breakfast, and made a signal fire with fronds and wet wood that would send smoke up to be seen from miles away. If his boat or crew had survived, they'd come for him.

He had to take off his mask to scoop sea water into it, drinking what trickled out of the filters. For every gulp it was several minutes worth of scrubbing salt out of the damn things. What did that monster drink? If it was a man it surely would have died by now, Mako couldn't find any fresh water on this awful rock. Fed and watered, he sat by his smoke signal and fed it more wet wood and leaves to keep it going.

Just below the crackling he heard a familiar rustle and stiffened a bit, but didn't turn away from the horizon, hoping to see sails heading his way. The rustling was getting closer, Mako could hear something tapping on the rock as that thing stepped closer to him. He whirled around and finally got a look at it in the light of day. It was a monster, of that he was sure, its mouth through a slit in its coarse burlap mask was a mess of hay and fire, and it was missing a leg, the stump not even flesh. What flesh there was was covered in scars and massive stitches, like it was an experiment gone wrong.

What really got Mako were the eyes, they moved independently of each other, metal telescopes filled with fire that clicked and whirred as they darted between Mako and the woods behind it. It seemed more likely to flee than attack, back hunched and hands wringing, one of them metal. 

“Who the hell are you?” Mako growled, standing up and cracking his knuckles. He didn't think the thing was going to attack him, but he wanted to quell _any_ thoughts of violence right off the bat. The thing made a nervous sound in the back of its throat, bobbing its head as if it was thinking or, perhaps, unable to speak at all.

“Shark,” it finally said, in a high pitched and grating voice, perhaps a little hoarse from disuse.

“You're Shark?” Mako asked incredulously.

“Shark!” It repeated, pointing at Mako insistently.

Oh. His mask, right. “I'm Sharkbait,” Mako said gruffly, deciding it wasn't a good idea to go around handing out birth names to something that may or may not be a demon from Hell itself. “Who the fuck are you?”

The creature pointed at its own skinny chest, head cocking.

“Yeah,” Mako took a step forward, getting a little annoyed with this game, “your name.”

The thing took a step back, shaking its head, “None,” it said, was that sadness in its voice? Mako refused to believe a demon, or a monster, or whatever it was, had human feelings. Mako looked it up and down, finally staring into its strange eyes, watching them flick compulsively in every direction like it was nervous about predators sneaking up them. As far as Mako could tell, they were the only things on the entire goddamn island.

“You're Hayseed,” Mako said at last, thinking back to a scarcrow on his family's farm. Mako had named all the scarecrows as a child. That little farmboy would never have guessed he'd grow up to be the most feared pirate on the seven seas.

The thing's face, Hayseed's face, lit up. It's mouth opened in a massive smile, flames licking out like many excited tongues, “Hayseed!” it repeated, bouncing in place, “I'm Hayseed! I am! I'm Hayseed!”

“Yeah, okay,” said Mako warily, turning back around to sit by his fire. Maybe this was all a fever dream; he was laying on the beach hallucinating and close to death. All at once he had a lapful of scratchy, wriggling Hayseed, his arms wrapping around Mako's neck to keep him from prying him off with a snarl. “Fuck off!”

“Sharkbait,” said Hayseed dreamily, “mine.”

He'd made a serious mistake in engaging this thing, he should chased it back into the woods, thrown rocks at it, anything to discourage it from getting cozy! Mako certainly shouldn't have named it because now it was cooing at him and petting his mask with its metal hand. It was way,  _way_ stronger than it looked too, because no matter how much effort Mako put into throwing it off his lap, the thing clung to him like a lamprey, hands stroking down his shoulders and belly, playing with one of his nipple rings curiously.

Mako sucked in a small breath as Hayseed tugged on the ring, sending unbidden lust shooting into his cock. “Stop it,” he snapped, but his hands had settled on Hayseed's slim waist instead of shoving him away.

Hayseed paused, glancing from his nipples to his mask curiously, “Sharkbait likes,” he said like he could feel the heat in Mako's gut. “Can make feel real good,” a whisper, a promise, an eagerness to please all wrapped up into one breath of hot air.

Mako was at a crossroads, he couldn't deny the bolt of desire at finding a slim, very willing body to fuck while he was stranded on this island; but this wasn't a man, it was... something else. Hayseed, to its credit, was waiting for a real answer.

Ah fuck it, he was probably going to die here anyway.

Mako shoved Hayseed into the sand, ignoring its shrill, grating laughter as he pulled off its ratty old clothes. Not the mask though, he left the mask alone. Some things were better left unseen. Mako found that Hayseed had the body of a man all the way down to his half hard cock and single remaining leg. His other leg was flesh until about mid thigh, when it trickled into pure hay, then some kind of half-assed prosthetic. Mako just kept his hands high on the things hips, thumbs brushing over old stitches and cuts, then down to its cock which felt like any other cock in his fist.

“Ah-!” Hayseed's giggles petered off into gasps as Mako stroked him, watching the fire blink in and out of his twitching telescopic eyes. He wasn't pretty, but he had a nice, taut body, and when Mako rolled him over it was almost easy to pretend he was fucking any other man. Mako ran his fingers down the shivering muscles in Hayseed's back, then rubbed between the cleft of his ass, hissing as he was able to push one in almost effortlessly. No friction, no catch of skin on skin, it was like he was already prepared.

“You are a demon,” Mako muttered, “ugliest incubus I've ever seen.”

Hayseed seemed to find that funny, because he cackled and beat his hands into the sand. Mako hoisted him up by the hips, pleased to see how easily his spine bent, how graceful that arch, how beautiful the sight of his tight asshole, balls and cock hanging between his spread thighs. Mako pulled his cock out of his pants and pushed forward, grunting to feel the heat squeeze around his cock with none of the friction. Mako wasn't a small man, but Hayseed seemed to suck him up to the hilt, asshole clenching around him like he was trying to milk him.

“Fuck,” Mako breathed, hands stroking up and down Hayseed's sides, feeling his ribs expand with every hard breath he took.

“Fuck!” Hayseed repeated, though it seemed to be more of an order than an exclimation.

That was the only order Mako was interested in following. He tightened his grip on Hayseed's hips and started to pound into him, panting and grunting as he let his weight crush him down into the sand. Mako could hear their skin slapping together, hear Hayseeds whines and whimpers of pleasure. Mako grinned and fucked him harder.

“Inside,” Hayseed begged, “Inside. Inside!”

Mako growled, feeling his balls slap against Hayseed's ass, feeling him clench and squeeze as his body begged to be filled. One, two, three hard thrusts and Mako pressed in all the way, sitting up with a roar of pleasure as he filled Hayseed with come, feeling the thing shake and shudder under him as it too seemed to come.

Mako pulled back with a sated sigh, and then lurched back on his ass as Hayseed writhed in the sand, hissing and screaming and kicking. Mako scrambled to his feet, tucking his cock away before he bent down to grab Hayseed and keep him from lurching into the fire as he screamed. What the fuck? What the fuck? Had he hurt the thing? What had-

Hayseed sat up, ripped off his mask to reveal a gaunt face with both eyes sewn shut and stitches over his right temple and into sweaty, patchy blond hair. “Fuck, mate,” said the guy, sweat dripping down his pale face, “saved me goddamn life.”

“What the fuck,” Mako muttered.

The guy grinned, he had a couple gold teeth, and in the back of his throat Mako thought he saw a little flicker of fire. “Ya got no goddamn idea where ya at, but don't worry... ol' Hayseed will take care of ya. Mako.”

 


	25. Neck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roadhog really likes Junkrat's neck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just felt like writing some possessive, bite-y Roadhog

Roadhog had a _thing_ for Junkrat's neck. The gangly son-of-a-bitch was anything but handsome, yet that long, smooth neck always had Hog's mouth watering behind his mask. He liked to grab Rat around his skinny waist and haul him back, pressing Junkrat's back flush against his gut then bending down to slide his tongue from shoulder to ear. Junkrat tasted like soot and sweat, bitter and salty, but Roadhog was used to it. It was the perfect end to a long day of keeping the sorry bastard alive.

“Holy Dooley,” Junkrat went limp, held up entirely by Hog's grip as he seemed to melt with just one lick to his neck. Maybe that was why Roadhog was obsessed with Rat's neck, it was quite possibly the most sensitive part of his body. 

Roadhog nuzzled the snout of his mask against Junkrat's jaw as his mouth worked over the smooth skin of throat, licking and sucking, paying special attention to marks he'd left a couple days ago. Had to keep them fresh, so people knew who Rat belonged to. Not that anyone else in Junkertown wanted him. Roadhog just liked being possessive.

“Hoggy,” Junkrat groaned, head falling back against his shoulder, “yer makin' me toes curl-” Junkrat trailed off into a squeal as Roadhog bit him. Better than talking. 

Roadhog manhandled Junkrat towards the sagging bed in the corner of the room, kicking aside old mugs and scrap and empty cans of hogdrogen. The Australian sun fell like fire over the floor as it set outside, the unbearable heat slowly lifting as darkness crawled over the land. Roadhog shoved Junkrat over the bed and followed him down, finally pulling off the mask to hang it on the bedpost so he had unfettered access to Junkrat's mouth, shutting him up every time he tried to talk. Kiss him enough and he gave up trying to talk at all.

Roadhog lived for drawing out those breathy little moans and whimpers, biting down on Junkrat's bottom lip just to feel him squirm and arch under Hog's weight. Mako stripped Junkrat naked, dumping his things over the edge of the bed piece by piece and stroking his palm over every bit of skin that was exposed.

“Root me, Roadie,” Junkrat panted, rolling over obediently and sticking his bony ass in the air. 

Roadhog growled and fumbled for the lube, crawling over Junkrat and pinning him flat against the mattress, “Impatient,” he growled.

Junkrat wheezed and giggled, turning his head to look at him from the corner of his eye, “C-can you blame me?”

Roadhog laughed lowly, slipping a finger into Junkrat's asshole as his free hand closed around the back of his neck to keep him pinned into the mattress, “No.” He fingered the bites and bruises on Junkrat's neck, pressing until he moaned and whined, squirming and squeezing around Roadhog's fingers. It really was a good neck... so skinny that Roadhog could wrap his fingers all the way around it and squeeze, feel Rat's adams apple bob as he swallowed and giggled breathlessly.

He held Junkrat in place as he fingered him open, pleased with how easily he opened up. They'd done this enough that Junkrat seemed to melt under him, asshole swallowing him up greedily. Roadhog removed his fingers and took his hand off Junkrat's throat so he could place his hands on either side of his head and mount him proper, grinding his hard cock between Junkrat's ass, head of Roadhog's prick catching on his puffy asshole.

With a short hitch of his hips, Roadhog moaned and slid into Junkrat's body, tight and hot and perfect around him. He leaned in to latch his lips back around Junkrat's neck, sucking and biting as he fucked him into the mattress, ears drinking in each of Rat's cries and squeals, just as shrill as the sound of his bed creaking and banging against the wall.

Now Junkrat tasted mostly of sweat, and Roadhog eagerly lapped at him, teeth bringing up more bruises, lips sucking up hickies, until Junkrat's long, perfect neck was covered in them; from under his jaw all the way down to his shoulders. “Mine,” Roadhog snarled, pounding Junkrat ruthlessly, hips slapping against his ass. Roadhog could go all night, but Junkrat's stamina was garbage; and once he came, he was too sensitive to play with further. So Roadhog chased his orgasm, feeling the pleasure twist and squirm in his gut, drawing his balls tight against his body as it built.

Roadhog gripped Junkrat's chin and forced him into a sloppy kiss, teeth clicking together, drool dripping into the pillows. A few hard thrusts and Roadhog came with a snarl, biting down hard enough on Junkrat's bottom lip to split it, blood spilling into his mouth and dripping down their chins. He pulled back for a harsh breath, fucking Junkrat through his orgasm, feeling his seed drip out of Rat's poor hole to smear his cock.

“'m close!” Junkrat squeaked, “Roadie-!”

Roadhog grunted, pulling out of Junkrat and replacing his cock with three of his fingers, curling them as come trickled down his wrist to rub against Junkrat's prostate. It only took a few light rubs before Junkrat was screeching like a banshee and spilling into the sheets, ass squeezing around Roadhog's fingers. Hog quickly drew them out as Junkrat melted into the sheets, panting like a dog.

“Scoot,” Roadhog grunted, shoving Junkrat to the edge of the bed so he could lay down and pull his mask back on. His lungs were already starting to hurt, so he hooked his mask to the hose attached to the tank of hogdrogen on the bed and turned it on, taking a deep breath and feeling relief spreading through his chest. Junkrat nuzzled against his side, until Hog lifted his arm so Rat could snuggled up against him.

The next morning Roadhog ate his bowl of oats, mask sitting on top of his head so he could watch Junkrat blearily down his third cup of black coffee. His neck and shoulders were covered in bright, vibrant bites and bruises. Roadhog smiled to himself, hiding it behind his own mug of coffee.

_His_ .

 


	26. Fun in the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat and Roadhog are ready for a day at the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fine me at tumblr as ohgodsalazarwhy

The beach wasn’t crowded by the time all the screaming stopped.  Junkrat put his peg up on the edge of the destroyed lifeguard tower and cackled as he watched the _former_ beach-goers run for their cars.  Roadhog was behind him setting up a massive umbrella and a couple beach towels in its shade.

“Their loss if they don’t want to share,” said Junkrat gleefully, turning around to plop himself onto a towel and start stripping out of his bombs and into his swim gear.  

Roadhog grunted in reply, dropping trou to show he already had his swimsuit on, that slinky little speedo that could barely contain him.  Junkrat giggled as he slid on his trunks, that was his favorite.  While Roadhog was content to just lay in the sun, Junkrat scrambled up, ready to make a break for the crystal clear water.

“Sunscreen,” Roadhog said, mask already behind a book.

“Aw, c’mon!” Junkrat kicked up a plume of sand, nearly falling over as his peg sank a couple inches when he put his weight on it.  He dropped back onto his ass and dug through their bags to pull out the bottle Roadhog had stolen out of someone’s car when they’d pulled up.  Roadie didn’t need any, he didn’t burn in the sun he just got dark.  Junkrat had already had to dig out a few of his own cancerous skin spots though so lately Roadhog was being all strict about sunscreen.  Like that’d make a huge difference in the amount of tumors that popped up, but Junkrat humored him because the alternative was a fight he didn’t want to have.

“Okay, slathered up! Slicker than an oiled pig!” said Junkrat, popping back onto his feet dripping with hastily slathered on sunscreen which was applied in uneven streaks, and missed his back entirely.

“For fucksake,” Roadhog rumbled, setting his book aside and sitting up with a grunt, “come here.”

“Yer not me mum!” Junkrat complained, even as he obeyed.  He let Roadhog pull him down, huffing as big hands slid over his body, smearing the sunscreen evenly, bringing extra around to his back, up his neck, fingers surprisingly gentle as they brushed along his face and nose.  Actually, this wasn’t so bad.

As Roadhog’s hands slid down his chest, thumbs brushing his nipples in a way that _couldn’t_ be an accident, Junkrat brought his flesh hand under Roadhog’s gut to rub his crotch.  He grinned as Roadhog huffed behind his mask.

“Ain’t no one here,” Junkrat said coyly, twisting to straddle one of his big thighs, “mask off, Big Guy.”  He reached up, cupping the snout in his metal hand and waiting to see if Roadhog would shove him off… but he didn’t; so Junkrat pushed the mask up to let it sit on the top of his head, beaming as he met Roadhog’s glare.

“Thought you wanted to get into the water,” said Roadhog, hands resting lazily on Junkrat’s hips, thumbs rubbing the edge of his trunks, dipping under them.

“Don’t I gotta wait for this stuff anyway?” Junkrat leaned in for a kiss, smearing some of his sunscreen into Roadhog’s stubble.

“Hmmm, fine,” said Hoggie, like he wasn’t hard against Junkrat’s palm.

Junkrat squeezed Roadhog’s cock through his speedo, but was too impatient to be much good at teasing.  He just wanted to get to the juicy bits!  He pulled Hoggie’s fat cock free and wriggled down so his head was in his lap, kissing the tip as Hog huffed and tangled one hand in his patchy hair.  

It was nothing but the sound of the waves, the screams of seagulls, and above it all Junkrat’s wet, sloppy slurping as he sucked Roadhog’s cock.  He groaned, pleased with the ache in his jaw as he held his teeth away from Roadhog’s flesh, didn’t want to get cuffed for biting.  Roadie was quiet, but his hand stroked over Junkrat’s head and down the back of his neck, encouraging him to keep going.

He sucked hard, cheeks hollowing as he tried to get Roadhog off, sometimes he could take _forever_.  Thankfully, today wasn’t one of those days, and Junkrat let out a little sound of pleasure as his mouth was filled with Hog’s thick, bitter come.  Junkrat swallowed what he could, but had to pull back for a gasping breath, and the last few spurts of come coated his face and dripped onto Roadhog’s softening cock.

Apparently being at the beach had put Roadie in a good mood, because Junkrat didn’t even have to beg before he was being hauled back into Roadhog’s lap and a hand stuffed down the front of his trunks to stroke him.  “Ooooo,” he squealed, back arching as he bounced a little on Hog’s thigh.

Junkrat never took a long time, he came in seconds, spilling in his trunks with a wail that startled a few nearby seagulls.  He giggled weakly as the sear of a fresh orgasm faded into a lazy warmth in his gut.  Roadhog pulled his hand out and wiped it on Junkrat’s towel.

“Okay, go,” he grunted, laying back down and picking his book up.

Junkrat made sure his floaties were on and grabbed his duck floatie before hoofing it as fast as he could, with a peg leg that sank into the sand with every step, to the water.


End file.
